Ben rubbed his muzzle over Kyle’s shoulder in a way that I think was supposed to be reassuring. Kyle sucked in a breath. Either it hurt, or the reminder that the werewolf was big enough to rub his shoulder without much effort wasn’t exactly reassuring. “Ben, when was the last time you brushed your teeth?” asked Kyle. Or else Ben’s breath was really bad.

He was like Superman, but with fangs and oddly impaired morals.

Love thy enemies, it says in the scriptures. My foster mother always added, "At the very least, you will be polite to them.

Trying is always enough.

Dance when the moon sings, and don't cry about troubles that haven't yet come. (Moon Called)

Time was such an odd thing. One moment you could talk to someone, then suddenly, they were gone.

You should be home sleeping. What is the use of having a man in the house, if he cannot take care of you for a while?” “Mmm,” I said. “I give up. What's the use of having a man in the house?