The sh*t's gonna splatter, start buggin, yo..." Mencheres to Cat

Since this was a formal undead gathering, there would be food—all kinds—drinks, dancing, and festivities, while those in power pondered whether or not to slaughter half the people around them. In other words, like a high-school prom.

He's clean," Ritchie announced. Chance wrinkled his nose with mild distaste. "Can't say the same about you. Really, man, soap is nothing to fear.

Try not to think too often, you'll only hurt yourself

Wasn't it time she risked getting hurt again, instead of just accepting the numbness of never letting anyone in?

You ought to be ashamed of yourself, running around, not married, staying out all night. Ashamed!" "Ashamed!" my grandmother echoed. Good to know they still agreed on things after forty-three years of marriage.

Revenge was the emptiest of emotions. Apparently it motivated people to do the stupidest things as well.