No. --Claire Bullshit! Yes, a world of yes. --Eve

Things that Shane doesn't want on his grave: (1.) I thought it wasn't loaded. (2.) Hand me a match so I can check the gas tank. (3.) Killed over Ice Cream

So you’ll just kill anyone who frightens you. Who could hurt you.” “Well…yes.

I just went to work for a vampire, was scared by a spider, and got knocked down by a tanning bomb. And that’s just my day, not my week.

Claire found herself staring at his feet, which were in bunny slippers. Myrnin looked down. "What?" he asked. "They're quite comfortable." He lifted on to look at it, and the ears wobbled in the air. "Of course they are," she said. Just when she thought Myrnin was getting his mental act together, he'd do something like that. Or maybe he was just messing with her. He liked to do that, and his dark eyes were fixed on her now, assessing just how weirded-out she was. Which, on the grade scale of zero to Myrnin, wasn't much.

There were so many layers of reality to the world. Nothing stopped for death; nothing stopped for grief or horror or tragedy.

What's possible?” - she asked “Anything,” he said absently. “But that’s not what I was talking about. Oh, hello, Claire. You’re in good time. I need an extra pair of hands.” “As long as I keep them attached,” she said, which earned her a startled stare. “The things you say to me, you’d think I was some sort of monster.” -- Myrnin and Claire