And stop doing that,” he said. “Backing away, giving me that look.” Like you’re scaring me? Maybe you are.” He stepped back so fast he wobbled and caught himself, and the look on his face—It vanished in a second, the scowl returning. I’d never hurt you, Chloe. You should know—” He stopped. Paused. Then wheeled and started walking away. “Next time? Handle it yourself. I’m done taking care of you.

I could shave my head and wear a sackcloth and still get a whole lot of ghostly wrong numbers. Makes me wonder if there’s some kind of ghost-necro porn industry down there. ~Jaime Vegas

Life experience. I can talk it up, vow to broaden my horizons, but I’m still limited to the experiences with my life. How can a person understand an experience that lies completely outside her own? She can see it, feel it, imagine what it would be like to live it, but it’s no different from seeing a movie on a screen and saying, “Thank God that’s not me”.

Stuffing people into boxes is for those who have issues about their own box.

Urban survival rule 22: Never annoy an armed man.

And the lesson is that I should always wear these, so no one asks me to do anything crazy like climb onto a roof. ~Jaime Vegas on why she wears three inch heels on a mission

You wanna fight?" I asked. He looked up at me and, for just a second, hesitated, then said, "Yeah. I do." "Well, I'll save you the trouble. You win.