I felt like a car that had only been operated by one driver… a car its new prospective buyer was determined to take to the Daytona 500.

You trust me?" Eric sounded surprised. "Yes." "That's . . . crazy, Sookie.

Don’t you just hate nights like that, when you think over every mistake you’ve made, every hurt you’ve received, every bit of meanness you’ve dealt out? There’s no profit in it, no point to it, and you need sleep.

They found the corpse in the closet of Alcide's apartment, and they hatched a plan to hide his remains." Eric sounded like that had been kind of cute of us. "My Sookie hid a corpse?" "I don't think you can be too sure about that possessive pronoun." "Where did you learn that term, Northman?" "I took 'English as a Second Language' at a community college in the seventies.

And since I’m going to be in the neighborhood, you thought I might do as an escort? To an orgy?

There's not much I dislike more than being addressed as "Hey you" and being poked with a finger.

No matter what happens in public—no matter what—don’t doubt that I love you and care about your welfare . . . as much as I am able.