Drink it,” I told her. “It’s good for what ails you. Caffeine and sugar. I don’t drink it, so I ran over to your house and stole the expensive stuff in your freezer. It shouldn’t be that bad. Samuel told me to make it strong and pour sugar into it. It should taste sort of like bitter syrup.” She gave me a smile smile, then a bigger one, and plugged her nose before she drank it down in one gulp. “Next time," she said in a hoarse voice, “I make the coffee.

I don't get mad, I get even.

It's easier to dismiss ghosts in the daylight.

I was talking cannibalism, not romance.

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

She open her eyes and met his. The impact was so strong he was amazed that his figures continued playing with out pause.

A man who will risk nothing for love is not a man