Quotes from Eoin Colfer

The pod groaned and complained, fifty-year-old rivets threatening to pop. Holly shook her head. The first thing she was going to do on her return was kick Foaly straight in the hairy behind. She felt like a nut inside a shell, between a gnome's molars. Doomed.

Who are you talking to, McGuire? Because you couldn't be talking to me. Not in that tone.

The barman sniggered. 'Win? Nobody wins in here, junior.

Holly, vertrouw je me?' Holly kreunde. 'Artemis, vraag dat nou niet. Ik weet gewoon dat je nu weer met een van je waanzinnige plannen komt.' 'Vertrouw je me?' 'Ja,' verzuchtte Holly. 'Ja, meer dan wie ook.

The Resorts of Han Wavel were so obscenely luxurious that it was said a Breqindan male would sell his mother for a night in the Sandcastle Hotel's infamous vibro-suite, This is not as shocking as it sounds as parents are accepted currency on Brequinda and a nicely moisturized septuagenarian with a good set of teet can be traded for a mid-range family moto-carriage.

Fowl! Aan de voet! - Holly, tegen Artemis

Ik weet waar dit allemaal om te doen is, Opal.' 'O, is dat zo?' 'Ja. Je bent nog steeds beledigd omdat ik op de universiteit de medaille voor natuurwetenschappen gewonnen heb'... Foaly grijnsde voldaan. Ook al zag het er nog zo beroerd uit, hij was toch nog in staat het allerirritantste wezen onder de wereld te zijn, als hij dat wilde.

Daar zaten we echt op te wachten,' kreunde Holly. 'Artemis Fowl met toverkracht.

Mooi schot.'... Artemis stak haar de munt toe. 'Nee,' zei Holly. 'Hou hem maar. Om je te helpen herinneren... dat er diep onder die lagen onbetrouwbaarheid toch nog een vonkje fatsoen is.

He could be like a modern-day Robin Hood: steal from the rich and give to the poor. Well, maybe just steal from the rich. One step at a time.

Love can be a noun or a verb, she said.

There was nothing on the TV. Except pay-per-view and I refuse to buy programmes, on principle. Except that chef guy with the foul mouth.

Je ogen. Ze zijn veranderd. Je hebt nu één blauw oog en één hazelnootbruin.' Artemis glimlachte. 'Jij ook. Die zijn tijdens de overgang verwisseld.

How do I love thee?" wondered Orion. "Let me see. I love thee passionately and eternally . . . obviously eternally— that goes without saying." Holly blinked sweat from her eyes. "Is he serious?" she called over her shoulder to Foaly. "Oh, absolutely," said the centaur, his voice juddering along with the pod's motion. "If he asks you to look for birthmarks, say no immediately.

I am unarmed. But Butler here, my…ah…butler, has a Sig Sauer in his shoulder holster, two shrike-throwing knives in his boots, a derringer two-shot up his sleeve, garrotte wire in his watch, and three stun grenades concealed in various pockets. Anything else, Butler?" "The cosh, sir." "Oh, yes. A good old ball-bearing cosh stuffed down his shirt.

I can tell you what love means, dictionary-wise, all the synonyms and so forth. And I can tell you all about endorphins and synapses and muscle memory. But ardour's resonance in the heart is a mystery to me. I'm a computer, Arthur. Arthur hid his disappointment with the traditional brisk rubbing of hands and stiffening of upper lip. Of course. No problem. I am made to live for ever but you are made to live.

Obviously, that's a translation.)

D'Arvit,' he blurted, shocked that Artemis's stories had been, in fact, historical rather than fictional. Sister Jeronima mistook the blurt for a sneeze. 'Bless you, chico,' she said. 'The night air is cool.' Myles did not bother to correct her, because an explanation would be difficult, considering that the word D'Arvit was a fairy swear word, according to Artemis's fairy tales.

Now, Benny was no eejit. He wasn't expecting the Tunisian nationals to be Irish. What he did expect was darkish people with Irishy personalities. That was not what he got. The Tunisians weren't interested in conforming to Benny's preconceptions. They stubbornly insisted on being themselves.

Myishi will kick Phonetix's butt next quarter.

Here we are, said Berthold, mopping his forehead with a Kleenex. A section of the paper remained trapped in the worry lines of his forehead, and fluttered there like a windsock in the air-conditioner blast.

Scusatemi tutti

the ultimate despair.

In time, the Cancún Event, as it came to be known, would be mentioned in the same breath as Area 51 or the Yeti Migration.