– Jesteś.... aniołem?
– Pewnie (...) tylko skrzydła zostawiłem w przedpokoju, by nie nabłocić.

[...] nie zawsze trzeba wygrywać, żeby zostać zwycięzcą. Czasem wystarczy, że inni przegrają.

– Ale... Ja nie wierzę w Boga.
– A kto tu mówi o Bogu? (...) Wyrażam tylko opinię Nieba. Jako ogółu.
– W niebo też nie wierzę (...).
– Jakoś nieszczególnie przeszkadza mu to istnieć.

And when you fall from that parapet,the sound you'll be hearing as you go down will be me,laughing my head off.

You seem to know a lot about it," she said. "And you do subtleties."
"Yeah. Like I've always wanted to destroy the Nine Worlds while committing suicide."
"Well, there's no need to be rude," protested Sif.

He was beautiful, that was always affirmed, but his beauty was hard to fix or to see, for he was always glimmering, flickering, melting, mixing, he was the shape of a shapeless flame, he was the eddying thread of needle-shapes in the shapeless mass of the waterfall. He was the invisible wind that hurried the clouds in billows and ribbons. You could see a bare tree on the skyline bent by the wind, holding up twisted branches and bent twigs, and suddenly its formless form would resolve itself into that of the trickster.