Boys always get the best eyelashes; it's like some kind of cosmic law. And half-breed kids get some kind of extra help there from genetics, too.

It was stealing her breath, imbecile. Go get a towel." -Christophe, Strange Angels by Lili St. Crow

They all looked like a shampoo commercial, healthy and clear-skinned, perfectly proportioned, a group of handsome young men. Their clothes hung on them like they were glad to be gracing such supermodels.

Jesus, you've got a death wish." "Right now I have a bathroom-and-sleep-somewhere safe wish, kid.

No problem, Goth Boy. First one's free.

The only one," he murmured. His chin dipped a little bit. "You know that, Dru? You're the only person who's ever believed in me. You know what that'll do to a guy?" What?"I-" "It makes him want to live up to it.

People don’t really want to know anything about you. They just want you to fit into their little predetermined slots. They decide what you are in the first two seconds, and they only get nervous or upset if you don’t live up to their snap judgments.