I know that look, Blake. You are a drowning woman, and the only way out is down the aisle.

Larry's zombie bag was a nearly virulent green with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on it. I was almost afraid to ask what his vampire bag looked like.

True love means you love the real person, not an ideal that you have in your head and superimpose over them. That's illusion and lies to me.

I'm not afraid of heights, but the idea of falling from them, well, that I'm afraid of.

...you don't need ghosts to be haunted. Memory does that just fine without any supernatural help at all.

People go away and they don't come back.

And the moment you care that much, a man has you. He owns a little piece of your soul, and he can beat you to death with it.