And the bad guys love to pick on the defenseless necromancer. This time, though, I swear I won’t get kidnapped or possessed. ~Jaime Vegas

Last time I was sick, the guy I was seeing brought me a bottle of ginger ale… and expected me to pay him back for it. ~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”.

Antonio- "Just in time, Pete. Five more minutes of reading this and she'd have been in a coma." Peter- "Are we such bad company that you'd rather hide out in here reading that old thing?

Do I pass, Dr. Saunders?

What's wrong?" I didn't say a word." Something's up. What is it?" Nothing." His head turned, gaze going to mine. "Yeah?" Yes." A snort and he returned to his bowl.

I remember hearing myself start to whimper, a five-year-old, crouched by the side of the road, staring into my father's eyes, whimpering because it was so dark and there was no one coming to help, whimpering because my mother was back in the crushed car, not moving, and my father was lying here in the dirt, not answering me, not holding me, not comforting me, not helping my mother get out of the car, and there was blood, so much blood, and broken glass everywhere, and it was so dark and so cold and no one was coming to help.