“Your time's running out, Valkyrie." Fegley gave another wallop before he squeaked off.

Regin narrowed her eyes, watching him till he was out of sight. "One day I'm going to make that little piggy cry all the way home.”

“You lose no time in taking out a fly,
Or straw, it may be, that torments your eye;
Why, when a thing devours your mind, adjourn
Till this day year all thought of the concern?
Come now, have courage to be wise: begin:
You're halfway over when you once plunge in:
He who puts off the time for mending, stands
A clodpoll by the stream with folded hands,
Waiting till all the water be gone past;
But it runs on, and will, while time shall last.”

“You two. You can do a cleaning spell."
One slurred, "But Nixie, I'm really pre-hung-over."
Nix's eyes went wide. "Do it, or the photos go live!"
The witch shook her fist to the sky, crying, "Damn you, Valkyrie! Damn you and your digital ways!”

“One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure it's worth watching.”

“Florentine was now no more than a bright patch on the platform. He managed to see her take out her compact and wipe away the few traces of her tears. He closed his eyes and, as if he were already very far away, cherished that image of Florentine and her powder puff. Then he searched the crowd one last time for her thin, small face and her burning eyes. But she had already turned her back to leave before the train was out of sight.”

“nix: "Do it, or the pictures go live!"

Witch shakes her fist at the sky, crying, "Damn you, Valkyrie! Damn you and your digital ways!”

“He gave her a bright fake smile; so much of life was a putting off of unhappiness for another time. Nothing was ever lost by delay. He had a dim idea that perhaps if one delayed long enough, things were taken out of one's hands altogether by death.”

“The beer was empty and our tongues were tired
And running out of things to say.
She gave a kiss to me as I got out
And I watched her drive away.Just for a moment I was back at school
And felt that old familiar pain
And as I turned to make my way back home
The snow turned into rain.”

“You know," she said, stirring her tea, "the fastest way to get him off your back is to sleep with him. And tell him you love him. Preferably while in bed."
I smirked and the tea almost came out of my nose. "He'd run like he was on fire.”

“And they say he's too young to surrender
And they cry out, and they call him by name.
Their graffiti tells how he's remembered.
Still, the River runs on just the same. Run River, run.”