Are you really going to work in that?" Maura asked.

Blue looked at her clothing. It involved a few thin layering shirts, including one she had altered using a method called shredding. "What's wrong with it?"
Maura shrugged. "Nothing. I always wanted an eccentric daughter. I just never realised how well my evil plans were working.

Drugs?"
"Rituals. Are you messing around with drugs?"
"No. But maybe rituals."
"Drugs might be better.

Do you know, it's really hard to be a parent. I blame it on Santa Claus. You spend so long making sure your kid doesn't know he's fake that you can't tell when you're supposed to stop."
"Mom, I found you and Calla wrapping my presents when I was, like, six."
"It was a metaphor, Blue."
"A metaphor's supposed to clarify by providing an example. That didn't clarify."
"Do you know what I mean or not?"
"What you mean is that you're sorry you didn't tell me about Butternut."
Maura glowered at the door as if Calla stood behind it. "I wish you wouldn't call him that."
"If you'd been the one to tell me about him, then I wouldn't be using what Calla told me."
"Fair enough.

It's like scrying into that weird space. There's so much coming out of him, it shouldn't be possible. Do you remember that woman who came in who was pregnant with quadruplets? It was like that, but worse."
"He's pregnant?" Blue asked.

Saw him where?"
"While I was sitting outside with one of my half aunts."
This seemed to satisfy Ronan was well, because he asked, "What's the other half of her?"
"God, Ronan," Adam said. "Enough.

He's a pit bull," Adam said.
"I know some really nice pit bulls."
"He's the kind of pit that makes the evening news. Gansey's trying to restrain him."
"How noble.