I want to punish them. I want that punishment to be so hard, so vicious that the next who takes their place wets himself at the mere thought of trying to fight me.

You say the sweetest things. And that spaghetti perfume you're wearing is to die for. No hobo could resist." She snarled. Heh.

Half-man, half-beast, all nightmare. The shapeshifter warrior form.

Do you like my working persona?" Saiman asked softly. "An aesthetically pleasing combination of intelligence and elegance, wouldn't you say?" Aren't we pleased with ourselves. "Are you Chinese, Japanese, half-white? I can't tell, your features are neither here nor there." "I'm inscrutable, mysterious and intellectual." He forgot conceited. "Did you have any trouble getting that ego through the door?" Saiman didn't even blink. "Not in the least.

I'm counting to ten in my head." "Is it helping?" "No." "It doesn't help me with you either. I used to life weights to alleviate frustration, but someone blowtorched my weight bench. How did you do it, by the way?" "I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you.

It's awful to be rich and mind-boggingly handsome and have women fawn over you. My heart bleeds for you. Poor dear, how do you manage?

You’re touching me,” I chided him. He caressed my back, sliding his hand down, hitting every sensitive point I hadn’t even known I had. “No, this is touching you. That was just accidental contact.” “Oh? Good to know. If you touch me again and I break your arm off, you can be sure it will be completely accidental.