But I wasn't a bad girl. I don't want to be forgotten. I want people to remember me.

I turned to look into his face one last time. It was as if I could see the whole universe in his eyes. Maybe he was God, maybe he was simply enlightened. I didn't care right then, in that blessed moment, I just loved him. Later, though, the love was to turn to hate, to fear. They seemed so opposite, the feelings, yet they were all one note on his flute.

There comes a time for everybody when words and reasons can become such a great weariness.

There would be a trial and there would be a judge. The only problem was, there could only be one sentence.

It doesn't matter. You are what you are. I am what I am. We are the same-when you take the time to remember me.

I am a vampire. Blood does not bother me.

I’m a coward, I close my eyes. I don’t understand why God made sight the only sense that can be blocked off.