The whole point of wearing a disguise was to be seen wearing her.
I did not like this feeling of having feelings.
...she opened the door very slowly and carefully, half hiding behind it, as if badly frightened of what might be waiting for her on the other side. And considering that it was me waiting, this showed rare common sense.
No big deal. We all have blood in us, the trick is keeping it inside.
Could this be the Apocalypse ?
Really now: If you can't get me my newspaper on time, how can you expect me to refrain from killing people?