I was feeling safe. Not the kind of safe where you know there are still bad things howling outside the door waiting to get in. No, it was the kind of safe where you sink down in your bed at the end of the day and know you can go to sleep and everything is going to be the same tomorrow.

He laughed. The laugh could strip the skin off an elephant in seconds.

Touch me again, and it will be your last act in life - Blue Eyes.

I wondered what I’d end up looking like once I bloomed. I couldn’t even guess. If I had to be stuck in my own skinny, gawky, coltish body forever… well. It probably wouldn’t be so bad. I wouldn’t mind a little more in the chest, though. But wild horses wouldn’t drag that out of me. Ever.

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

Better to be strong than pretty and useless.

Christophe, with the careful tone of an adult telling a kid not to pet the nice foaming-rabid pooch.