What is love? Sometimes it's just letting yourself be who and what you are, and letting the person you're supposed to love be who and what he is too. Or maybe what and who they are.

There comes a point when you just love someone. Not because they're good, or bad, or anything really. You just love them. It doesn't mean you'll be together forever. It doesn't mean you won't hurt each other. It just mean you love them. Sometimes in spite of who they are, and sometimes because of who they are. And you know that they love you, sometimes because of who you are, and sometimes in spite of it.

The ratman froze, staring at me. "Why are you laughing?" His voice held just a hint of unease. Good. I was hoping that the vampires would come for me soon and save me. You've got to admit that's funny.

No. But then the American Government--whatever branch--has never really grasped the concept of tribal identity.

I'm more influenced by my own interests than anyone else's. Writers have to entertain themselves, or they can't entertain anyone else

I'm not terribly fond of soapboxes.

I will love you always. When this red hair is white, I will still love you. When the smooth softness of youth is replaced by the delicate softness of age, I will still want to touch your skin. When your face is full of the lines of every smile you have ever smiled, of every surprise I have seen flash through your eyes, when every tear you have ever cried has left its mark upon your face,I will treasure you all the more, because I was there to see it all. I will share your life with you, Meredith, and I will love you until the last breath leaves your body or mine.