swore. “Barabas said you might say that. I’m supposed to tell you this.” Ascanio cleared his throat and produced a remarkably accurate impression of Barabas’s tenor. “Courage, Your Majesty.” “I will kill him.” “The Beast Lord or Barabas?” “Both.

You don't cause problems. You cause catastrophes.

Your headlights don't scare me.

You were joking about the whole please and thank you thing, right?" "Meant every word." A little light danced in his eyes and he very deliberately said, "Baby." No. He laughed. "You should see your face right now." "Don't call me that." "Would you prefer 'darling'? Or maybe 'cupcake'?" He winked.

How is it that I could run into a gunfight against overwhelming odds and put myself between bullets and civilians, but I couldn't scrape together enough courage to speak to the one person who mattered the most to me?

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

Peope, especially unhappy people, want a cause. They want something to belong to, to be a part of something great and bigger, and to be led. It's easy to be a cog in a machine: you don't have to think, you have no responsibility. You're just following orders, doing as you're told.