Quotes from Jim Butcher

I always considered myself a loner. I mean, not like a poor-me, Byron-esque, I-should-have-brought-a-swimming-buddy loner. I mean the sort of person who doesn't feel too upset about the prospect of a weekend spent seeing no one, and reading good books on the couch. It wasn't like I was a people hater or anything. I enjoyed activities and the company of friends. But they were a side dish. I always thought I would be happy without them.

But I am dead certain--ba-dump-bump-ching--that I'm the first guy to lead an army of spirits in an assault from the spirit-world side...and had them start off screaming, BOO!

We all must die. There is no better way to do so than in the pursuit of something you love.

Kincaid, evidently exhausted himself, drew a gun, took the safety off, placed it on his chest, and went to sleep too. It's cute, I whispered to Murphy. He has a teddy Glock.

I am the foremost collector of velvet Elvii in the city of Chicago, I said at once. Elvii? Marcone inquired. The plural would be Elvises, I guess, I said. But if I say that too often, I start muttering to myself and calling things 'my precious,' so I usually go with the Latin plural.

The characters within a book were, from a certain point of view, identical on some fundamental level ? there weren't any images of them, no physical tangibility whatsoever. They were pictures in the reader's head, constructs of imagination and ideas, given shape by the writer's work and skill and the reader's imagination. Parents, of a sort.

I checked the icebox. The faeries usually brought some sort of food to stock the icebox and the pantry when they cleaned, but they could have mighty odd ideas about what constituted a healthy diet. One time I'd opened the pantry and found nothing but boxes and boxes and boxes of Fruit Loops. I had a near-miss with diabetes, and Thomas, who was never quite sure where the food had come from, declared that I had clearly been driven Fruit Loopy.

Molly blinked, then looked at Thomas and said, Wait a minute.... We're his flunkies. You, may be, Thomas said, sneering. I'm his thug. I'm way higher than a flunky. You are high if you think I'm taking any orders from you, Molly said tartly.

I'd had a key to the marina's locks at one time, but I'd lost track of it when I got shot, drowned, died, got revived into a coma, haunted my friends for a while, and then woke up in Mab's bed. (My life. Hell's bells.)

Then you know that Sam was the true hero of the tale,' Sayna said. 'That he faced far greater and more terrible foes than he ever should have had to face, and did so with courage. That he went alone into a black and terrible land, stormed a dark fortress, and resisted the most terrible temptation of his world for the sake of the friend he loved. That in the end, it was his actions and his actions alone that made it possible for light to overcome darkness.

She looked up at me with a polite smile, her dark hair long and appealing...I liked the smile. Maybe I didn't look like a beaten-up bum. Maybe on me it just looked ruggedly determined. I'm sorry, sir, she said, but the addiction counseling center is on twenty-six. Sigh.

Erlking," I told her. "Big-time bad guy. Wants to eat me." "Why?" she asked. "Well. I met him," I said.

Those who deal in magic learn to see the world in a slightly differnt light than everybody else.you gain a perspective you had considered before. A way of thinking that would never have occurred to you with out exposure to the things a wizard sees and hears.When you look in to some ones eyes you see them in that other light and for just a second they see you in the same way.

It's one of the things that makes us different than they are, Harry. The blood on their hands does not make it right to bloody my own. My choices are measured against my own soul. Not against the stains on theirs.

Molly, you are a good person. Don't let anyone take that away from you. Not even yourself.

Oh, I forgot to mention it: My brother is the kind of man whom women stalk. In cooperative packs.

Never let it be said that Harry Dresden is afraid of a dried, dead bug. Creepy or not, I wasn't going to let it ruin my concentration. So I scooped it up with the corner of the phone book and popped it into the middle drawer of my desk. Out of sight, out of mind. So I have a problem with creepy, dead, poisonous things. So sue me.

People have far more power than they realize, if they would only choose to use it.

My imagination needs therapy.

Souls, I said. I mean, you always wonder if they're real. Even if you believe in them, you still have to wonder: Is my existence just this body? Is there really something more? Do I really have a soul? Uriel's smile blossomed again. You've got it backward, Harry, he said. You are a soul. You have a body.

I got the sneaking suspicion that the vampire was a couple of Peeps short of an Easter basket.

Bob, would you be willing to take on Evil Bob? Bob's eyes darted nervously. I'd . . . prefer not to. I'd really, really prefer not to. You have no idea. That me was crazy. And buff. He worked out.

I just stood there staring, because while I've seen a lot of weird things, I hadn't ever seen that.

Answer my question, Dresden,' Nicodemus growled. 'What is that?' 'A precaution against getting stuck in deep snow,' I said. 'He's training to be a Saint Bernard.' 'Excuse me?' Nicodemus said. I mimed covering one of Mouse's ears with my hand and stage-whispered, 'Don't tell him that they don't actually carry kegs of booze on their collars. Break his little heart.