There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.

You'd think a sociopath assassin wouldn't have a fan following but he does

Love, whether it's friendship or more, is like a cup. It fills up drop by drop, until one last drop and the cup is full. The liquid hangs there almost above the rim, hangs there on surface tension alone and you know that one more drop and it will spill over.

If you’re alive, don’t move, if you’re dead, don’t worry about it.

Jason patted me on the back. “Tomorrow night we'll take you out chasing deer.” “I thought you'd chase cars,” I said. He grinned. “What fun is that? Cars don't bleed.

He's no more human than I am, ma petite." At least I'm not dead." That can be remedied.

Nothing turns to hate so bitter as what once was love.