He had this old southern idea of what a lady should be. A lady should not carry a gun and spend most of her time covered in blood and corpses. I had two words for that attitude. Yeah, those are the words.

I'd never met coffee that wasn't wonderful. It was just a matter of how wonderful it was.

If you're dressed for my funeral, it's too casual. If it's just street clothes, then you must be scaring the tourists.

There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.

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

You're up to something," I said. He turned, eyes wide, long fingers pressed to his heart. "Moi?" "Yeah, you.

We aren't the good guys, Anita. We're the necessary guys. -Edward