“Then set the hounds loose, boy - it's time to kick demonic ass!”
“No.
You know this is wrong and you want to feel better about it.
You don't want to admit your as ruthless and monstrous as the demons you claim to hate.”
“I know who the demon thief is - it's me!”
“One of the things is that in times of severe disorder, you can't worry about the dead, only the living.”
“But I don't think Art's an Einstein - he likes tugging ears, biting people and burping too much to be a genius.”
“I've lived and seen enough to know how difficult it is to settle for a small life when you're destined for greatness.”
“I thought how great it would be if we could trade in Fudge for a nice cocker spaniel.”
“What about the old standby of kicking a guy in the groin?"
"Try to."
Love to...”
“Darius glided toward Tempest in his silent, intimidating way. “You are going to bed now, honey. I will not listen to any arguments.” Tempest was already lying down. “Does anyone else besides me ever get the urge to throw things at you?” She sounded drowsy, not combative. Darius hunkered down beside her so he was at eye level with her. “I do not think so. If they do, they do not have the audacity to tell me.” “Well, I think throwing something at you is the only way to go,” Tempest told him. Her eyes were already closing, and her voice was weary and sad despite her heavy words. Darius stroked the wealth of red-gold hair away from her face, his fingers soothing her scalp. “Do you? Maybe tomorrow might be a better time to try it.” “I have a very good aim,” she warned him. “It would be easier on you if you just quit giving me orders.” “That would ruin my reputation,” he objected. A smile curved the corners of her mouth, emphasizing the thin red cut at the side of her lip.”
“People have reasons for what they do, Beatrice. And even if those reasons can't be justified, that doesn't make them bad people, just flawed. You have to remember," she said, "someone or something has hurt them too.”
“Only, I felt, by some such attempt to write history in terms of personal life could I rescue something that might be of value, some element of truth and hope and usefulness, from the smashing up of my own youth by the war.”
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