He is my vulnerability

Nightfall. “What a strange word. ‘Night’ I get. But ‘fall’ is a gentle word. Autumn leaves fall, swirling with languid grace To carpet the earth with their dying blaze. Tears fall, like liquid diamonds Shimmering softly, before they melt away. Night doesn’t fall here. It comes slamming down.

You were firing questions at me today, trying to get inside my head. You asked if I believe in God. I told you of course I do - I've always had a strong sense of self

What is the greater good but tyranny’s chameleon?

Barrons was powerful, broodingly good-looking, insanely wealthy, frighteningly intelligent, and had exquisite taste, not to mention a hard body that emitted some kind of constant low-level charge. Bottom line: He was the stuff of heroes. And psychotic killers.

Is anyone who's supposed to be dead actually dead?

Beautiful women rarely possess sufficient depth of character to survive without their pretty feathers.