I can get others to do what you do. They won’t be as good, but . . . okay. It could work. But it doesn’t matter because no matter how good they are, they can’t replace you. They can’t because I don’t need you only for what you can do. I need you . . . for you.

The worst part was the silence. Death was supposed to be loud — gunshots, explosions, screams and thunder. Not this eerie quiet that wrapped around me like a shroud.

We're going jogging." "I don't run for recreation. I run when someone's after me with a weapon." "That can be arranged.

Then you must be willing to fight," Mircea responded. "Life is not a gift, Raphael; it's a challenge. Rise to it!

No they called it the Codex Merlini because it was written by a guy named Ralph.

You decent?” I pulled the towel up a little higher. “Yes, if my wrinkled toes don’t offend.” Marco’s swarthy head popped around the doorjamb. “Naw, they’re cute.

I’d have been dead a long time ago if not for my friends, one of whom had just jumped off the cliff after me. I’d have been a lot more appreciative if he hadn’t pushed me first." ~Cassandra Palmer