"I was just offered a contract on your life, for enough money to make it worth my while." It was my turn to be quiet. "Did you take it?" "Would I be calling you if I had?" "Maybe," I said. He laughed. "True, but I'm not going to take it." "Why not?" "Friendship." "Try again," I said. "I figure I'll get to kill more people guarding you. If I take the contract, I only get to kill you." "Comforting."

He ordered food with a childlike glee and watched me eat, tasting it as I did. In private he'd roll on his back like a cat, hands pressed to his mouth as if trying to drain every taste. It was the only thing he did that was cute. He was gorgeous, sensual, but rarely cute. - Anita Blake about Jean-Claude

I’d have much rather gotten dragged into someone else’s fight than face what was waiting for me. Other people’s emotional pain, no matter how painful, is so much less painful than your own.

I didn't want to pick at Micah and me until we unraveled. I wanted to leave it alone and enjoy it. I just didn't know how to do that.

What does it mean when the monsters are so afraid of you that you make them cry? That maybe monster depends on which end of the gun your on, or that I was just that good at my job.

Assuming the worst was always safer. And usually truer.

I never said I was consistent.