“That might be nice, an extra pair of arms," Jace said. "Handy in a fight."
"Not if they're growing out of your…" Dorothea paused and smiled, not without malice. "Neck.”

“A moment passed, perhaps half a second when their faces said what they felt, and then Emma was smiling, laughing, her arms around his neck.”

“And he said grow some funk of your own amigo,
Grow some funk of your own.
We no like to with the gringo fight,
But there might be a death in Mexico tonight
If you can't grow some funk of your own amigo.”

“We have a name," said Jace. "Magnes B-"
"Shut up." Alec hissed, thwacking Jace with his closed menu. Jace looked injured.
"Jesus," he rubbed his arm. "What's your problem?”

“Scanned by the eyes of this intelligence, your path will be without pits to swallow, or snares to entangle you. Environed by the arms of this protection, all artifices will be frustration, and all malice repelled.”

““Let’s waste a little time, hmm?”
“A nice euphemism, sir,” she mused distantly.
He smiled. “Come and help me think of better ones.”
She smiled and they both looked at each other.
There was a long pause.”

“Are we fighting?" I asked Morelli.
"No. Were discussing."
"Are you sure?"
"Am I yelling?" Morelli asked. "Is my face purple? Are the cords on my neck standing out? Am I waving my arms around?"
"No."
"The were not fighting.”

“Well, either you’ve been out fighting the forces of evil or you’ve come from a much wilder party than we have,” Jace said.
“Hello, there, Blackthorns.”

“I really think guys only need two pairs of shoes. A nice pair of black shoes and a pair of Chuck Taylors.”

“There is a growing strength in women but it's in the forehead, not the forearm. Men will always be attracted to women with nice soft arms and a fleshy bosom.”