She says that what you did was a cry for help." "It was," I say. "That's why I was yelling 'Heeeelp!' I don't really go in for subtlety.

It demeans you to cover rotten meat with honey. I know what I am. What would you want with a monster?" "Everything.

Ah coffee. The sweet balm by which we shall accomplish today's tasks.

Everything was strange and beautiful and swollen with possibilities.

I can learn to live with guilt. I don't care about being good.

You don't have to protect these people, Cassel." I am these people.

She can’t help it. She loves the con. I tell myself I’m not like her, but I have to admit I love it too.