Since you won't give me your names I'll call you Thing One and Thing Two.
It's not the fur or the fangs that make you a monster, not always. Sometimes, it's just where you draw the line.
So many of us had been armed that there were holsters and weapons scattered among the passed-out bodies like mercenary prizes in a fleshy Cracker Jack box.
No, really, Ronnie, it's good to share information when you know someone else is dating the lunarly challenged.
You ask yourself "What is love? Am I in love?", when what you should be asking is, "What is not love?", ma petite. What is it that this man does for you that is not done out of love?
Sex was never as neat as the movies made it. Real sex was messy. Good sex was messier.
More sex. We must have more sex.
I wasn't like most girls.
True power comes when others offer it to you and you merely accept it as a gift, not as the spoils of some personal war.
Power makes you a monarch, and all the fancy robes in the world won't do the job without it.
If I'd been easily discouraged, I could have been a one-hit wonder
I am a very linear thinker, so I write beginning to end. I write hundreds of pages per book that never make it into print
If people would write exactly what I wanted to read I wouldn't feel so compelled to write myself
I've lost track of the number of people who want to be writers but never actually write anything. Talking about writing, dreaming about writing, can be very fun, but it won't get a book written. You've got to write
Sometimes love isn't about being smart. Sometimes it's about being stupid together.
Children make that big a difference to you? He asked. I nodded. Yeah, they do. I never figured you as the maternal type. I'm not, but kids are people, Edward, little people trapped by the choices the adults around them make.
Important safety tip - never look a vampire in the eye.
Hatred makes us all ugly.
Larry had brought me blue jeans, a red polo shirt, jogging socks, my white Nikes, an extra cross from my suitcase, the silver knives, the Firestar complete with inner pants holster, and the Browning and its shoulder holster. He'd forgotten a bra, but hey, except for that it was perfect.
I'm not afraid of heights, but the idea of falling from them, well, that I'm afraid of.
His parting shot to me had been, "I don't want to love someone who is more at home with the monsters than I am." What do you say to that? What can you say? Damned if I know. They say love conquers everything. They lie.
I wanted to say something brilliant. My God, Holmes, how did you know the zombie was hiding in the flower pot? But I couldn't lie.
Silk didn't care if it slid over scars or smooth, untouched skin. I'd earned my right to be paranoid.
Human lives are too short to waste in trivialities.
I hated missing the end of anything. I was always convinced that the bit I'd miss would be the best part.
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