Cesky Krumlov, the little jewel box of a city in southern Bohemia.

A dream dirty and bruised is better than no dream at all.

He dropped the pretense, and dropped his head, so his brow came to rest against the sun-warmed top of hers. His arms went around her and drew her in, and Karou and Akiva were like two matches struck against each other to flare starlight. With a sigh, she softened, and it was pure homecoming to melt against him and rest.

Brimstone once told me that to stay true in the face of evil is a feat of strength.

And I've found that since you can't electrify yourself like a fence, the next best thing is to have murderer's eyes.

Life doesn’t need magic to be magical. (But a little bit sure doesn’t hurt.)

In all that was to happen, there would be that feeling of inevitability and rightness, and the sense that the universe was conspiring in it. It would be easy.