You don't believe in God, Rachel. You don't believe in goodness or love or mercy, do you?" "I haven't seen enough to form an opinion." "But you believe in the devil?" "When I'm sitting in a car with him, yes," she said.

Do I make you nervous, Madame Lambert?” “No. I just prefer to keep my distance.” “Evil isn’t contagious.” “I thought you said you weren’t the most evil man in the world?” “I’m not. But that doesn’t mean I’m a good man.” “I don’t think anyone would argue with that.

She tilted her head to one side, considering him. "Do you love me?" "Love is a trick and a sham. A foolish plague and a lie and a torment." "Do you love me?" she repeated, quite calmly. Knowing the answer. "Yes, may it curse my soul." "May it save your soul," she said.

She tried to allow herself only one biting remark an hour, and she had already overstepped her allowance.

And telling you I care about you is a waste of time. I wouldn't have crossed the ocean, come out of hiding, tracked you down, if you didn't matter to me.

He pulled her back, off balance so that she fell against him, and he took her face in his two hands and held it very still while his eyes looked down into hers. Somber, truthful, painfully honest. "I love you, Chloe," he said. "Which is the most dangerous thing I could do.

Jesus, woman!" he snapped. "When did we have to become Romeo and Juliet?