What Moves the Dead (Sworn Soldier, #1)

by T. Kingfisher

I had a strong urge to step back from them, and an even stronger urge to poke them with a stick.

(Look, if you don’t make a fool of yourself over animals, at least in private, you aren’t to be trusted. That was one of my father’s maxims, and it’s never failed me yet.)

(I am never sure what to think of Americans. Their brashness can be charming, but just when I decide that I rather like them, I meet one that I wish would go back to America, and then perhaps keep going off the far edge, into the sea.)

It was fun. People get hung up on happiness and joy, but fun will take you at least as far and it’s generally cheaper to obtain.