...I need a boyfriend. And to get a boyfriend, you have to look good. Doesn’t hurt to smell good too.

Being with you never felt wrong. It's the one thing I did right. You're the one thing I did right.

Hang on, did you just call me Angel?” I asked. “If I did?” “I don’t like it.” He grinned. “It stays. Angel.” He leaned across the table, raised his hand to my face, and brushed his thumb along one corner of my mouth. I pulled away, too late.

You're a psychopath." "I prefer creative.

A feeling of violation swayed inside me, making me feel as if Id been shoved off a high platform without warning. I was falling, and I feared the sensation far more than hitting bottom. There was no end; just a constantsense of gravity having its way with me.

That was a good fight back in the gym,” he said. “But I think you could benefit from a few more boxing lessons.

Maggots squirming in your eyeholes...and your other orifices, might be carrying things a bit too far." "This is why I keep you around, Rixon. Always seeing things from the bright side.