Vampires were always either trying to kill me, or own me. God I hated being popular.

Hatred is a cold fire, and it gives no warmth.

I hate being awake at three in the morning. It is the godforsaken heart of darkness when the body runs slow, and the brain runs slower, and all you want to do is sleep. But I had promises to keep, and miles to go before I could sleep. Or at least a couple of miracles to perform before I could go to bed.

Not knowing a thing is not ignorance. Feigning knowledge you don't have can be--Sholto

"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."

I stared at Jean-Claude and it wasn't the beauty of him that made me love him, it was just him. It was love made up of a thousand touches, a million conversations, a trillion shared looks. A love made up of danger shared, enemies conquered, a determination to neither of us would change the other, even if we could. I love Jean-Claude, all of him, because if I took away the Machiavellian plottings, the labyrinth of his mind, it would lessen him, make him someone else.

who is the love of my life? Maybe I don't have one. Maybe it's not love at all. But if it's not love, then what is it? I wish I knew.