Don’t fuss. I love you just as you are, Mercy. I don’t need to swallow you whole, I don’t need to be in your head at all times. I just need to know that you’re there.

Mine. He was mine, and not even death would take him from me—not if I could help it.

Usually the people I do know are sufficient to spawn any number of nightmares without inventing any.

To make great art, you had to expose your soul, and some things should be left safely in the dark.

People who know other people’s secrets can’t afford to do things that impair their ability to control their mouths.

Things change whether you want them to, or not--unless you are dead. Don't hold so hard to the past that you die with it.

Coffee or orange juice?” “Water is fine.” His eyebrows went up. “Uh-oh,” Auriele said, but she was smiling. Darryl was not. “Are you implying that my coffee is not the best in four counties? Or my fresh-squeezed orange juice is less than perfect?