Quotes from Eoin Colfer

Today he became a killer, or else a corpse.

He was the point dog, sent in to check for hostiles. His orders were simple. Bite everything. If it screamed, it was hostile.

I like to be loved, he thought, but he did not voice the notion

Oh, I'm crazy, all right. I do have plenty of psychoses," said Orion cheerily. "Multiple personality, delusional dementia, OCD. I've got them all, but most of all, I'm crazy about you.

I know what dissipate means, Arty. I'm not three, for heaven's sake.

among guilt-ridden criminals, first diagnosed

I have lived long enough to realize that there is no such thing as perfect love. That's too long.

Mona was half ninja, half gunslinger, popping off charge after charge into the blue creatures.

Maybe I'm just gonna kill you, says Mike, peeved at being predictable. You ever think of that? No, Mike. Because if you wanted me dead, then four or five of your guys would be in the hospital and I'd have a flesh wound. Maybe.

world was dripping down his eyeballs like wet oil paint down a canvas.

Cosmo was halfway through a particularly nasty dream involving two Parasites, Ziplock, and a hair dryer

Some instruments seemed like they were held together with duct tape and prayers. Everything looked out of date.

Cosmo sank into a near trancelike state. The events of the past few days bounced around his head like blobs of oil in a lava lamp. Who was he now? Cosmo Hill fugitive no-sponsor, or Cosmo Hill Supernaturalist? Who was Cosmo Hill anyhow? A product of Clarissa Frayne, with no personality to speak of. Fourteen years old and he had never kissed a girl.

It was impressive, but, pretty much like the man with the exploding head, it was a one-time trick. When

Opal giggled. For someone, who never smiled, he had a delicious sense of humor.

Artemis smiled grimly. And for a moment, he felt like his old, conniving self, before Holly and his mother had introduced him to their pesky moral codes.

Ik was vroeger altijd zo dol op Pip en Kip. - Foaly

But always among the humans, there are those individuals who would control all they see and are threatened by that which they do not understand.

It is like the old fairy tale. The boy saves the princess; they fall in love. He invents a flying machine—along with his dashing teacher, of course. They get married and name their firstborn after the aforementioned dashing teacher.

According to the Book, they had once been equipped with wings of their own, but evolution had stripped them of this power. All but the sprites. One school of thought believed that the People were descended from airborne dinosaurs. Possibly pterodactyls. Much of the upper-body skeletal structure was the same. This theory would certainly explain the tiny nub of bone on each shoulder blade.

The great Stephen King once wrote don't sweat the small stuff, which I mulled over for long enough to realise that I don't entirely agree with it. I get what he means: we all have enough major sorrow in our lives without freaking out over the day-today hangnails and such, but sometimes sweating the small stuff helps you make it through the big stuff.

I outta get one of those flip signs, Vern thought. "No homicides in: 2923 days.

We're off again, I suppose," said Mulch eventually. "Off on another save-the-world-nic-of-time-seat-of-your-pants adventure?

If she ever got the chance to settle down, it would be in the U.S. — on the west coast though. Somewhere with sun.