"Ravens, ravens, drunk on freedom, do you not realise that there still be business to which we must attend? Quick, let us bring Mekrath's pretty jewel back to my playhouse where it might be more appreciated."

"Ah... the role of the lowly supplicant. I know this path well, my raven. We much play the eager servants to these black-hearted elven folk, and step to their tune most lively. The alternative is to suffer their suspicious eyes and magics... and we know not what eyes already follow us. Best we do exactly as we are told, lest we be revealed, aye?"

"(before entering the Underdark and the Harper Stronghold) 'And the door stands agape, suddenly, and with great trepidation our heroes step into the dark interior of a lion's den'..."

"There's no resisting the muse of an artist, is there? By his tone, it seems all we can do is to travel to yon Promenade and find this... 'illithium', or whatever he named. Come, my raven, it could be a lark."

"At last... Oblivion... (dies)"

"(When Edwin has failed to use a nether scroll) I once knew a Red Mage of Thay, Who dreamed of lichdoom some day. He said he knew how to do it, but he still managed to screw it, up in the funniest way."

"Just like old times. Well, except for the torture and all.."

"[at a critical hit] Gotcha good."

"[when in a dungeon] Tis' something most unnatural here, and I want no part of it."

"Nature, take the life she gave!"

"If you think it is wise to do so... so much comes back to haunt us."

"You speak as though you were dropped as a child... or kicked."

"[in Hell] It... it is not finished, is it? This is death... and your strange power has dragged me here with you. So be it, then. We stand together until the end."

"[upon final battle in Hell] No more platitudes, Irenicus. You have taken much from all of us. Now you die your final death!!"

"So... this is it. I... wish you well. Maybe... maybe someday... well... I doubt this is the last we've heard of you..."

"[When HP falls to 0] Don't... Forget... To Raise... Me...."

"There goes a truly evil man. Uncle Scratchy looks like a saint compared to him."

"You know, this reminds me of that time, wa-a-a-ay back..."

"I'll do it, for a turnip."

"[on a critical hit] Take that, turnip-hatin' scum!"

"Beware! Your knees are mine!"

"(burps) Pardon, turnip reflex."

"I can't! I'm allergic! Well, all right, I'm not that allergic..."

"I think we make a fine partnership, like Drizzt and Wulfgar! Elminster and Volo! Heh, we should go into the mobile vegetable peddling business together!"

"Well, there's a lesson in there somewhere, I suppose. Never whip a sick ogre? Never tell someone twice your size to pick something up? Never boss someone around unless you can run faster than they can? Aha! If you're going to hire ogres, give them sick days and benefits or they will kill you. Yes... that about sums it up, I think."

"Whooo... all this talk of Umar brings back memories, let me tell you! My great-great-cousin One-Knee was one of the adventurers that hunted the Great Witch of the Hills a long time ago. Said she had a fondness for little children and that her house was made out of chocolate candy, of all things. Personally, a house made of turnips sounds much more appealing, but One-Knee stated decisively that the house was delicious, nevertheless. According to his stories, the witch was dead... something about getting shoved in an oven... but then Grammy Jansen said that One-Knee was pretty delusional, so who knows?"

"[in Hell] Whoa! This place looks just like... it reminds me of.. this is just like that time I... hm. I don't think anything like this has ever happened to me before..."

"[before the final battle] Some villains refuse to die. Kill 'em once, kill 'em twice, they just keep coming back. It's just like a bad play. Here's hoping for a decent ending..."

"[after being resurrected with Keldorn in the party] Greetings, everyone. Sorry, no gifts or souvenirs this time but I'll keep you all in mind the next time I'm gone. Oh, Keldorn: the gods say 'hi' and that you should wash your underwear more thoroughly. Everyone ready? Let's go adventuring."

"Oh, yes indeed. It reminds me of my Cousin, Tyllie Fleetknees, and the garden she had at the foot of a dryad tree in the Forest of Wyrms. I tell you, she went up expecting well-aerated soil and did she get a surprise? Oh yes indeed! Why, I remember it like it was burned into my memory with a flaming stick, which was very close to the truth actually..."

"Well, there goes the wizard with a body in tow. Not the sort of thing you see every day unless you happen to be living with a necromancer. I did, once, when I was working for Golodon. He used to come into the tower every second day with a body over his shoulder. I would look at him all suspicious-like and ask him where he found it, and he would just shrug and say vaguely, "oh... around". It took me a while, but eventually I decided Golodon wasn't being entirely above-board with me on the body issue. Since then, I've never trusted a wizard with more arms and legs than he was born with... unless he's been polymorphed, of course, but even then it's usually wisest to keep your distance."

"[after sunset] I've had this little problem ever since I was a wee gnome. When it gets dark, everybody glows red. Frightens a child something fierce..."

"Typical. If I had a sense of humor left I might find that funny. I do not, on both accounts."

"Ahhh, the child of Bhaal has awoken. It is time for more...'experiments'... The pain will only be passing; you should survive the process..."

"You dare to attack me here? Do you even KNOW whom you face? You will suffer! You will ALL suffer!"

"You know nothing of me! You know nothing of what I must do! You will suffer! You will all suffer!"

"Torture? Silly girl, you just don't understand what I'm doing, do you?"

"Enough! I will no longer listen to the babbling of ignorant children."

"You bore me, mageling!"

"Must I be interrupted at every turn?! Enough of this!"

"Your pathetic magics are useless. Let this end!"

"Silence, child. Allow the fool to make his judgement."

"Life... is strength. This is not to be contested; it seems logical enough. You live; you affect your world. But is it what you want? You are... different inside. This woman lives and has strength of a sort. She lost her parents to plague, her husband to war, but she persevered. Her farm has prospered, her name is respected and her children are fed and safe. She lived as she thought she should. And now she is dead. Her land will be divided, her children will move on, and she will be forgotten. She lived a good life, but she had no power; she was a slave to death. I wonder if you are destined to be forgotten. Will your life fade in the shadow of greater beings?"

"You are but a gnat, compared to my power."

"She resists. She clings to her old life as if it actually matters. She will learn."

"The curse that was wrought against Bodhi and I has ceased, and yours has begun. You will wither, you will wane, and you will die."

"Silence dog! You have no purpose but to die by my hand!"