Every relationship is messed up. What makes it really perfect is if you still want to be there when things suck.

It feels like we're in a Harry Potter book talking about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

You either mellow at 30, or your head explodes - take your choice.

Just what I needed—a necromancer with an attitude. Oh, wait, I was a necromancer with an attitude.

Would you truly sleep with strangers?" "I don't know, I haven't met the strangers yet.

I know the universe has a sense of irony, and sometimes you get reminded just how sadistic that can be.

You cannot die of grief, though it feels as if you can. A heart does not actually break, though sometimes your chest aches as if it is breaking. Grief dims with time. It is the way of things. There comes a day when you smile again, and you feel like a traitor. How dare I feel happy. How dare I be glad in a world where my father is no more. And then you cry fresh tears, because you do not miss him as much as you once did, and giving up your grief is another kind of death.