Laurell K. Hamilton · 320 pages
Rating: (82.3K votes)
“Can the sarcasm,' he said. 'Please, I always use fresh sarcasm, never canned.”
“He was twenty. I remembered twenty. I'd known everything at twenty. It took me another year to realize I knew nothing. I was still hoping to learn something before I hit thirty, but I wasn't holding my breath.”
“Jesus, are all vampires over two hundred perverts?"
"I am over two hundred," Jean-Claude said.
"I rest my case.”
“All I really wanted to do was cuddle back under the blankets, maybe with a certain stuffed toy penguin I knew. Yeah, hiding sounded good.”
“That disapproving look was back in her eyes. Her teacher face. The one that could make you squirm from ten paces, even if you were innocent. And I hadn't been innocent for years.”
“I just don't believe in helping people who are going to torture me. Though I don't see any bamboo slivers. How can you possibly torture someone without bamboo slivers?”
“Turnabout is fair play. Payback is a bitch.”
“But we were all young once. It passes, like innocence and a sense of fair play. The only thing left in the end is a good instinct for survival.”
“There are some things more important than physical survival. You gotta be able to look at yourself in the mirror.”
“Is death such a high price to pay, when you will die anyway?”
“People go away and they don't come back.”
“I crossed my arms on my stomach. A psychologist would have said I was closed off, uncommunicative. Fuck them.”
“You are an abomination before God.
Jesus loves you too, I said smiling.”
“There are only two kinds of vampire hunters: good ones and dead ones.”
“I hated missing the end of anything. I was always convinced that the bit I'd miss would be the best part.”
“A crowd is an elemental thing. A word, a glance, and a crowd becomes a mob.”
“I don't have a master. I'm not sure if I have an equal.”
“Human lives are too short to waste in trivialities.”
“Not dating is a choice, not a failure.”
“Richard either didn't hear me, or chose to ignore it. Smart, handsome, junior high science teacher, degree in preternatural biology, what more could i ask for? Give me a minute and I'd think of something.”
“It was an hour before dawn. When all the Whos down in Whoville were asnooze in their beds without care. Sorry, wrong book. If I get to stay awake until dawn, I get just a tad slaphappy.”
“Besides I'm a sucker for a pair of pretty eyes.”
“What are you afraid of?' I asked.
'Airplanes, guns, large predators, ad master vampires.”
“A vampire victim. I'd never seen a lone kill. They were like potato chips; once a vamp tasted them, he couldn't stop at just one.”
“Please, I always use fresh sarcasm, never canned.”
“I stared at Jean-Claude still cuddled on the corner of the bed. He looked adorable, and if I’d had a gun, I’d have shot him on the spot.”
“Even my shoulder holster and the Browning matched. I had my backup gun in an inner pants holster. I also had two extra clips in my sport bag. I had replaced the knife I’d had to leave in the cave. There was a derringer in my jacket pocket and two extra knives, one down the spine, the other in an ankle holster. Don’t laugh. I left the shotgun home. If”
“I stared at the phone. I’d had to do it. Had to. So why did my stomach feel tight? Why did I have the urge to call Jean-Claude and warn him? Was it the marks, or was Richard right? Did I love Jean-Claude in some strange, twisted way? God help me, I hoped not.”
“Say you’ll go caving this weekend.” The leather coat crinkled and moved as he tried to move closer to me than the seat belt would allow. He could have reached out and touched me. Part of me wanted him to, which was sort of embarrassing all on its own. I started to say no, then realized I wanted to say yes. Which was silly. But I was enjoying sitting in the dark with the smell of leather and cologne. Call it chemistry, instant lust, whatever. I liked Richard. He flipped my switch. It had been a long time since I had liked anybody. Jean-Claude”
“Life is too short to be so circumspect.”
“Actually a solution & a path to personal freedom. My own life's experience w/ both Dharma practice & punk rock inspired me to try to bridge the gap between the two. I've tried to help point out the similarities, while also acknowledging the differences, & to show those of my generation who are interested that they can practice meditation & find there the freedom we have been seeking in our rebellion against the system.”
“The builder has ginger curly hair on top of his head, and a thick moustache. He has the look of a McDonald’s manager from 1970 who spends his evenings sitting in the smoky back row of theatres in Soho. He’s tall and muscular with hands the size of shopping baskets and, on the one occasion I did briefly meet him, I stared into his eyes and was shocked by their darkness. His nose is broken in three places and is the size and shape of a chicken nugget. A deep scar runs the length of his cheek hinting at a violent past.
Old tattoos fade on his arms.
The builder may have killed another human being at some point in his life.”
“Footmen stood stiffly with trays laden with foaming goblets and plates filled with tiny delicacies, such as sautéed scallops, salt cod and caviar on potato pancakes, basil palmiers, and roasted brie with gooseberries.”
“God who lives in you gives you the grace to move beyond your deepest wounds and say “You are forgiven ” and “I am forgiven.” If you allow Him He will give you a fresh start – right now.”
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