Brittany

“They’re not hideous,” said Tessa.
Will blinked at her. “What?”
“Gideon and Gabriel,” said Tessa. “They’re really quite good-looking, not hideous at all.”
“I spoke,” said Will, in sepulchral tones, “of the pitch-black inner depths of their souls.”
Tessa snorted. “And what color do you suppose the inner depths of your soul are, Will Herondale?”
“Mauve,” said Will.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince

“Looks like nobody’s home,” Puck said, turning in a slow circle. “Hellooooooooo? Anybody here?”

“Be quiet, Goodfellow,” Ash growled, peering into the shadows with narrowed eyes. “We’re not alone.”

“Yeah? How do you figure that, prince? I don’t see anyone.”

“The cait sith has disappeared.”

“ … Crap.”
― Julie Kagawa, The Iron Queen

“Mr. Rochester never courted Jane Eyre, Tessa pointed out.
No, he dressed up as a woman and terrified the poor girl out of her wits. Is that what you want?”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“But ... but what if I hit you?”
A snort. “You’re not going to hit me.”
“How do you know?” I bristled at his amused tone. “I could hit you. Even master swordsmen make mistakes. I could get a lucky shot, or you might not see me coming. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He favored me with another patient look. “And how much experience do you have with swords and weapons in general?”
“Um.” I glanced down at the saber in my hand. “Thirty seconds?”
He smiled, that calm, irritatingly confident smirk. “You’re not going to hit me.”
― Julie Kagawa, The Iron Queen