I noticed you tore down Donovan's house." He lifted his gaze until it locked with mine. "He's alive because he left town. His house chose to stay. It paid the price.

"I've been thinking," Brooklyn said as I gawked at the god sitting next to me, "if you get all lovey-dovey and decide to elope to Las Vegas where Jared uses his powers to clean up at the poker tables and you guys buy a mansion in the Manzano Mountains with twenty-seven rooms and decide - because you're rich and all - to buy a new computer, can I have your iMac then?"... "Um, no, you're not getting my iMac." "Dang."

We could make this work, you know." "I will knee you in the groin." "I could give you a night you will never forget." "Because you will be writhing in agony all night and I will laugh unmercifully. It will be unforgettable.

What's your specialty? Oh, you know. Madness. Mayhem. Debauchery. And even with all that going for me, I can still make a mean mojito.

Your existence gives me a headache. Go stand over there.

A split second later, my life flashed before my eyes, and I came to one important conclusion about it. It was fun while it lasted.

Dead people I could handle. They were usually beyond hysteria. This was the people-left behind part. The hard part.