My words are unerring tools of destruction, and I’ve come unequipped with the ability to disarm them.

It was a sort of ferocious, quiet beauty, the sort that wouldn't let you admire it. The sort of beauty that always hurt.

His wife's a brand of Christian that forbids a gathering that involves young women dancing in the streets but not races where men die

I'd found heaven and grabbed it as tightly as I could, but it was unraveling, an insubstantial thread sliding between my fingers, too fine to hold.

And I told you before, I'll sell you any of the thoroughbreds.” “I didn't make any of those thoroughbreds. I didn't make them what they are.” “You made all of them what they are.” I don't look at him. “None of them made me who I am.

It's very ugly' I said generously. 'But it looks as though it would laugh at snow. And, if you hit a deer it would hiccup, and keep going.

look, getting bitten doesn't make you into a monster. It just makes you a wolf. You are what you are. When you're a wolf, or when you're shifting, you don't have human inhibitions, so if you're naturally angry or violent, you get worse.