Changes (The Dresden Files, #12)

by Jim Butcher

You don’t explain to the janitorial staff how your company is a part of a sinister organization with goals of global infiltration and control. You just tell them to clean the floor.

There is no sensation to warn you when your soul turns black.

The fire hammered into the creature, and for all the good it did me I might as well have hit it with a rubber chicken.

I’m not sure it’s possible to manipulate someone with candor and truth. I think you call that enlightenment.

“Some men just enjoy killing.”

Paranoia is a survival trait when you run in my circles.

Even in Winter, the cold isn’t always bitter, and not every day is cruel.