- "Weeellll," Shaun said, elongating the word, "You see, it all depends upon how exactly you define 'god'." He began to tick off qualities on his fingers. "Extremely powerful? Check. Work in mysterious ways? Check. Demand to be worshiped and served? Major check. But immortal? Noooo. And bloody good thing they weren't."
- "Ooh, molto bene." She leaned over, gently pushing him to sit on the mattress, then cupped her mouth over his, tracing her tongue briefly over the scar on his lips before plunging it fiercely between them.
- "Wait, Enzio Auditore?! Shit, this guy can't say anybody's name right, can he?"
- "Don't feel like talking, eh?" Clay shrugged. "Understandable. Get a move on, then. No need to hang around and keep me company."
- Desmond felt the seconds crawl by like eons. He wished there was a haystack to hide in right about now.
- "Could be Shaun's cover is already busted and they're just using our op to feed us misinformation. Could be their real plans are something completely different and they want us to waste our limited manpower on-"
William cut him off. "I see your point. But there's nothing concrete we should be spending manpower on yet anyway."
- "Desmond, I won't try to stifle your sex life, as long as it doesn't compromise the Brotherhood."
- "Sometimes I wake up and just for a moment I think I'm gonna spend the day lazing around my apartment, then spend the night serving appletinis and Black Velvets. And then I remember the Assassin stuff. Training and missions and secrecy and shit like that...." Desmond took a deep breath. "And then, a few moments later, I remember I have a son. I remember I'm responsible for the life of a little human being, Colin, and that's the part that really hits me."
- "Ugh. Here goes nothing." Desmond closed his eyes and tried his best to focus into the mental state required for using the Apple of Eden. Breathing deeply, he swept aside the fear, and let himself once again commune with the power that resided in the ancient metal.
- Desmond pointed to one of the screens. "Motherfucking Templars!"
"If those aren't Templars they're something else bad, 'cause they're red as hell!"
"It's the Animus. Can you say 'Animus'?"
- There was silence in the van for some fifteen minutes as William maneuvered through rural Pittsfield, only daring to approach the highway after zig-zagging back and forth on residential roads to throw off possible tails.
- "I can't just do whatever the hell I want with it, Dad! It's not magic!"
"But you studied-"
"Yeah I studied but I'm still not a fucking Precursor, I just have some random genes from them!"
- "I don't 'ooze', Desmond. I am not a sludge or a slime or whatever mental metaphor you've conjured up."
- DesMiles: I fucking suck as a father
RebCrane: no you don't
DesMiles: yes I do