Sometimes he wished that he could tell his own stories, and neatly cut those powerful girls out and instead tell a sweet story with a happy ending, but he never did, because that wasn’t what he was here for, and because that was simply too much fiction for him to carry with him.

"No," Haymitch says, sighing. "You were always my favourite."

“The seat vibrates! And it reclines and spins. They wouldn’t have designed it that way if you weren’t supposed to think about having sex in it.”

"—Mercedes and the other Asian," Mr. Schue announces, straddling one of the chairs and consulting the hat. "Again, that's not my name—"

"I don't think it's from the buildings," Sheldon said. His voice sounded flat and dead, and it startled her so much she jammed on the brakes. Hysterical Sheldon she could handle. Blowing everything out of proportion, no problem. But defeated, lifeless, dead-sounding Sheldon threw shivers up and down her spine and an icy pressure into her stomach. "Sheldon?"

"PEACEFUL CAT COMES IN PEACE," the cat yowled. "WE BE MONITURRIN U."

Hello, future victims of Chuck Bartowski! Do not be afraid, I brought you beer to help you deal with your inevitable shame.

Boyd watches the footage from the security cameras installed in the van. Echo strokes the man’s hair as he dies. Then she smiles up at the camera, bright-eyed and beaming, as if to say Look what I can do!

Boyd understands, suddenly, Dominic's paranoia, and DeWitt's delicate obssession with Echo.

Finally, he says, “Don’t mention that I was here.”

Chuck's whole face changes. It gets older. And tired. And so sad that Olive doesn't even want to look at her.

It was a baby-sized beard! Why is he the only one who sees the horrible in that?

After the blood is blotted and the spilled wine mopped up, once the gallery's been put to order again, then they'll come for him, and hear the story.

"Yeah," Ellie says, her voice a half-whisper. "That's always been my job." She bites her lip for a second, then carefully closes the last folder, the one with Bryce Larkin's unsmiling face on top. "Can you," she starts, and then clears her throat. "Can you give me a ride over to Chuck and Sarah's apartment?"

Charlie raised his voice along with his anger. "Spiderman doesn't even need a car! He can just shoot webs wherever he sees fit!" He started flicking his wrist dramatically. "Web! To the DMV. Web! To Mary Jane's house..."

"Au contraire, Penny, it is the thrill of watching the math play out that excites me."

"Yes?" I know I'm not really Buffy but I have to respond to her name or everyone will know and they're not supposed to. Because I'm only--

"Raj? Hi Raj! I know you can't probably answer me, so if it's you, just, um, press a button or something?"

He stops, frowning, and doesn't say anything else. Instead he shields his eyes and looks straight up at the goalposts, decked out in blue, silver, red, and gold for the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw match. He remembers vaguely how easily those ribbons and drapings can change colors. Sometimes, they only needed to clap their hands.

Holly looks down at her lap and doesn't say anything. Pam wonders how long it'll take before someone upstairs notices they’re both missing.

You think about how everyone is interconnected, and then you count sheep, and then you wonder if sheep are interconnected -- of course they are -- and then you count interconnected sheep, and you still can't sleep.

God, it's not like she ever tied Pam to train tracks or anything.

She must look like her mother, Lyle thinks and then realizes how nauseous the thought has made him.

The Schrutes have known about Slayers for a long time.

The only thing Pam's ever heard him say is, "The worst thing about prison was the Dementors."

All right, then. One final question. Albus Dumbledore. Great Headmaster? Or … the greatest Headmaster?

"I know you're Hermione Granger. They showed us pictures."

He's got a righteous case of the munchies, so that'll be good.

She dreams of pith helmets and khaki vests and small brushes that, ever so slowly, reveal things large and ancient and beautiful from underneath all that dirt.

Pam takes up art class and you decide that everyone is special.

"I'll drink some FIRE," he tells Pam and she leans around the desk to blink at him, before sitting up again.

LEAVES ON THE LINE. He said calmly.

"The bottom fell out of his world," Harry told them. "He said that to me."

These days the Council ensures psychological preparation, too: dealing with grief, the inevitability of this loss.