Owain told me about the beautiful, fair-haired Vesta. It took me several minutes to work out that Vesta was a horse, and that Owain was possibly in love with her.

He doesn't bring many girls round unless they're part of a job - but also 'cause his smell can sometimes kill kittens.

I hugged him without any kind of fear or self-consciousness, fiercely, with a rush of emotion that almost brought tears to my eyes. "I could kiss you!" Chubs cried. "Please don't!" I gasp out, feeling his arms tighten around my ribs to the point of cracking them.

It feels like we should do something," he said. "Like, send her off on a barge out to sea and set her on fire. Let her go out in a blaze of glory." Chubs raised an eyebrow. "It's a minivan, not a Viking.

What I’m trying to get at is, as bad as everything seems, I think, at its heart, life is good. It doesn’t throw anything at us that it knows we can’t handle—and, even if it takes its time, it turns everything right side up again.

Why are you so weird?" "Because my weird has to be able to cancel out your weird, Lady Cross-stitch." "At least what I do is considered an art form." "Yes, in ye olde medieal Europse you would've been quite the catch-

I pulled myself from his mind, day by day, piece by piece, memory by memory, until there was nothing of Ruby left to weigh him down or keep him bound to my side.