People around me die. They drop like flies. I've gone through life leaving a trail of dead bodies behind me. My mother is dead, my guardian is dead, my aunt is dead—because I killed her, and when my real father finds me, he'll move heaven and earth to make me dead.

When a lion stalks a herd, he sneaks in close, lies down, and surveys them to choose his victim. He takes his time. The deer or buffalo have no idea he’s near. He finds his prey and then he explodes from his hiding place and grabs it. Even if another, perfectly serviceable animal ends up within his reach, he isn’t going to alter his course. He has chosen, and he would rather go hungry than change his mind.

When you walk a dog on a short leash, she's close enough to bite you.

You know anything about investigative work?" "Sure. Annoy the people involved until the guilt party tries to make you go away.

What did you write on here? ‘Don’t die’?” “No, I wrote, ‘Don’t be an asshole!’”I headed for the house. “On yours or mine?” “On yours.” “Well, in that case, your magic isn’t working. I’m still an asshole.

On your best day, you're only as good as I am on my worst with one arm tied behind my back.

It was his eyes. When you looked into them, you saw chained violence baring teeth and claws back at you.