It's not the fur or the fangs that make you a monster, not always. Sometimes, it's just where you draw the line.

When I was younger, I'd wanted someone to promise me that things would work out and nothing bad would ever happen again. But I understood now that that was a child's wish. No one could promise that. No one. The grown-ups could try, but they couldn't promise, not and mean it.

She should have remembered that people have given everything they own, everything they are, to be taken care of, and to have their pain gone. It's the lure of cults: the promise of a good family; it's what people think love is, but love isn't absence of pain, it's a hand to hold while you're going through it.

I'm very judgmental person. It's one of my faults.

Silk didn't care if it slid over scars or smooth, untouched skin. I'd earned my right to be paranoid.

I feel that if you are blessed, or lucky enough, to be doing well, you should help others.

If they cheat, can I shoot them?