A human doesn't have a heart like mine. The human heart is a line, whereas my own is a circle, and I have the endless ability to be in the right place at the right time. The consequence of this is that I'm always finding humans at their best and worst. I see their ugly and their beauty, and I wonder how the same thing can be both. Still, they have one thing I envy. Humans, if nothing else, have the good sense to die.

Mistakes, mistakes, it's all I seem capable of at times.

It's a lot easier, she realized, to be on the verge of something than to actually be it. This would still take time.

Even death has a heart.

But neither of us knows, because a fight's worth nothing if you know from the start that you're going to win it.

Sometimes people are beautiful. Not in looks. Not in what they say. Just in what they are.

You might argue that I make the rounds no matter what year it is, but sometimes the human race likes to crank things up a little. They increase the production of bodies and their escaping souls.