He made a small sigh, as he swallowed the first blood, then his mouth closed over my earlobe, mouth working at the wound, tongue coaxing blood from the wound. He pressed his body the length of mine, one hand cupping my turned head, the other playing down the line of my body. Maybe it was just blood, but I never stroked my steak while eating it.

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.

A woman will forget that a man is male, if they are good enough friends, but men rarely forget that a woman is feminine.

Sometimes it would be nice not to have to do my best. Sometimes it would just be nice not to have a crisis to deal with. - Anita Blake

You did not bring down two of the royal guard in an unceremonious heap because the woman in the middle tripped.

I would rather you love me, but if not love, fear will do.

The fey in this country keep to themselves, and are a separate nation, much like the American Indians, but with even more autonomy.