Small Favor (The Dresden Files, #10)

by Jim Butcher

Who do you think keeps the Dread Beast Mister from killing the brownies when they come to clean up your apartment? We do! Who lays low the mice and rats and ugly big spiders who might crawl into your bed and nibble on your toes? We do! Fear not, Za-Lord! Neither the foulest of rats nor the cleverest of insects shall disturb your home while we draw breath!”

I thought about it for a moment and thought I knew where she’d be. I nodded around the kitchen. “How do you keep things running around here with Molly under the roof? I figured things would be breaking down left and right.” “Lots and lots of preventive maintenance,” Michael replied steadily. “And about twice as much repair work as I usually do.” “Sorry.” He smiled. “Small price. She’s worth it.” The reasons I like Michael have nothing to do with swords and the smiting of evil.

Don’t think, Harry. You know too much about what you’re up against. Analyze, decide, and act.

We’re always disappointed when we find out someone else has human limits, the same as we do. It’s stupid for us to feel that way, and we really ought to know better, but that doesn’t seem to slow us down.

Body or mind, heart or soul, we’re all human, and we’re supposed to feel pain. You cut yourself off from it at your own risk.

“I want you,” I said, “to get me a doughnut. A real, genuine, Chicago doughnut. Not some glamoured doughnut. An actual one. Freshly made.”

“Likest thou jelly within thy doughnut?” “Nay, but prithee, with sprinkles ’pon it instead,” I said solemnly, “and frosting of white.”