Blay said yet again, that old, familiar voice cutting through all of those years of rejection and judgment, giving him not just a rope of acceptance to hang on to, but a flesh-and-blood hand to lead him out of the darkness of his past... And into a future that didn't require lies or excuses, because what he was, and what they were, was both extraordinary-and not hing out of the ordinary. Love, after all, was universal.

That human, he's a lesser waiting to happen, in my opinion--nothing less, nothing more

Butch put his hand on his roommate's nape and murmured, "I'll do the saving until you get your head back, how about that? I'll keep you safe.

Stop it. Do not feel safe with him. The Stockholm Syndrome is not your friend.

Word of advice. These have a kick, so don’t suck too hard—” Holy hypoxia, Batman.

You've won the evolutionary lottery: You're a vampire. Let's go to Disneyland!

Come to think of it, that word (choice) shouldn't be applied to people's destinies. Ever. Choice should be relegated to TV and meals: You could choose NBC over CBS or steak instead of chicken. But take the concept any further than the stove or the remote control and the word just didn't apply. - V