That part of his body was simply uncontrollable, apparently functioning in accordance to a single law of nature: She existed--he got a hard-on.

You have splendid breasts, lass," he purred, cupping the plump mounds. "Splendid," he repeated stupidly, and she almost laughed. Men loved breasts any shape or form, they just loved them. -Drustan to Gwen

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.

Air ye deaf, lass?" I think. He might have called me a hairy jackass

A wing or a thigh? Ah, I'm afraid we don't have any thighs left.

I make a new discovery that totally blows; dying is the easy part. It's coming back to life that sucks.

Four: If you try to force yourself into my head, I will force myself into your pants.