Storm Front (The Dresden Files, #1)

by Jim Butcher

“Oh. Is this, um, Harry Dresden? The, ah, wizard?” Her tone was apologetic, as though she were terribly afraid she would be insulting me. No, I thought. It’s Harry Dresden the, ah, lizard. Harry the wizard is one door down.

I don’t trust electronics. Anything manufactured after the forties is suspect—and doesn’t seem to have much liking for me. You name it: cars, radios, telephones, TVs, VCRs—none of them seem to behave well for me. I don’t even like to use automatic pencils.

There is no truer gauge of a man’s character than the way in which he employs his strength, his power.