End of the day, the quick and the dead are the same. Everyone's just looking for home.

Neither said anything while they embraced. Sometimes words didn't go far enough, the vessels of letters and the ladles of grammar incapable of holding the heart's sentiments.

Sometimes words were less valuable than the air that carried them when it came to getting close.

I was living with this sense that there was something going on, something important, but I didn't know what it was. It was like...I knew the secret was there, and it was a dark one, but I just couldn't reach it. Nearly drove me mad.

May I take your vein for a moment? I find myself... curiously depleted" Okay, right. Talk about your Johnny-on-the-spots: He locked them in and all but tore off his arm and threw it at her.

Time to the face the music.

Welcome to the wonderful world of jealousy, he thought. For the price of admission, you get a splitting headache, a nearly irresistable urge to commit murder, and an inferiority complex. Yippee.