You're so very naked," she whispered against his shoulder. He smiled into her hair. "So are you.

You're a good Irishman, right?" When Butch nodded, V said, "Irish, Irish… let me think. Yeah…" Vishous's eyes sobered, and in a voice that cracked, he said, "May the road rise to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rains fall soft upon your fields. And… my dearest friend… until we meet again may the Lord hold you in the palm of His hand.

I didn't know it would be black," she murmured with a little smile. Horror flooded his face. "Oh, Christ!

Man, it was a good thing vampires didn't get cancer. Lately he'd been chain-smoking like a felon.

We don’t have to talk about Zsadist. That’s okay. He’s the most interesting part of me.

When you were the son of evil, there was little you couldn't do, own, or kill, and yet her mortal self was an elusive trophy he could touch, but not put on his shelf. This made her rare. This made her precious. This made him...love her.

How can you stand to have me near you?" "The only thing I can't handle is your leaving.