I don't mean to judge a book by its cover, but that man is all cover and no pages.

In a thousand years, when I’ve all but forgotten how to love yet again, you’ll flit back into my heart, and I’ll weep, wondering what happened to my mad love.

Enjoy myself? There's a worm in my brain, I'm surrounded by idiots, and all I've got to drink is wine that tastes like vinegar.

I've taken more pleasant shits than you, Mizora.

Smashing! Soon, my friend - soon we can share a flagon of something liquid and a tale of derring-do!