Schuyler pulled Oliver close and hugged him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. Thank you for loving me enough to let me go.

I don't need anything to get high. I'm high on life.

Black is the color of night. White is the true color of death

When their lips met, and their tongues touched, it was like they were kissing in a hundred different places, and her senses were flooded with new sensations and old memoires. He kissed her, and their souls melted into each other in a melody older than time.

Remember all fairy tales end at some point.

I have never given this ring, my soul, to anyone. Azrael has never had any part of this. This is the only part of myself that is truly mine, and now it is yours.” —Jack Force

He was like a shooting star you tried to catch with your hands. She would only get burned.