Dresden’s not gone,” I said. I touched a hand lightly to my brow. “He’s here.” I touched Will’s bare chest, on the left side. “Here. Without him, without what he’s done over the years, you and I would never have been able to pull this off.”
“No,” he agreed. “Probably not. Definitely not.”
“There are a lot of people he’s taught. Trained. Defended. And he’s been an example. No single one of us can ever be what he was. But together, maybe we can.

She frowned at me. "You need some rest. You look like hell. And you're obviously tired enough to have gotten the giggles."

Wizards don't giggle," I said, hardly able to speak. "This is cackling.

My friend is going to save a little girl from monsters. I am going with him. That's what friends do.

Do you have a little white dress? I've had this deep-seated nurse fantasy about you, Murphy.

I wish I worried about my uncle's opinions, and had problems to work out with my mom. Hell, I'd settle for knowing what her voice sounded like." I put a hand on her shoulder. "Trite but true—you don't know what you have until it's gone. People change. The world changes. And sooner or later you lose people you care about. If you don't mind some advice from someone who doesn't know much about families, I can tell you this: Don't take yours for granted. It might feel like all of them will always be there. But they won't.

Sometimes I forget how much I like riding the bike."

Most chicks do," I said. "Roar of the engine and so on."

Murphy's blue eyes glittered with annoyance and anticipation. "Pig. You really enjoy dropping all women together in the same demographic, don't you?"

It's not my fault all women like motorcycles, Murph. They're basically huge vibrators. With wheels.