I don't matter here, Shane. I feel like I just don't matter. Stupid, right?" "No," he said. He sounded so gentle it broke her heart. "It's how most people feel most of the time, Claire. You've grown up being special, and this is how most people live their lives...on their own, unnoticed. And they get used to that feeling. It's just new for you.

Keys," she repeated, and slowly stepped back. "What do you mean, keys?" "Car keys. As in, give them up. Now." Shane had that look -- hard, and no bullshit. "We don't have time for your drama, Monica. Nobody does.

Pics or it didn't happen." "Dude, little busy for pics. You know, throwing flame.

Even bipolar vampires needed sleep from time to time, and he was well past his recommended safe dosage of stress.

But – Michael, you said you didn’t know Oliver, and–” “I didn’t, until he killed me. We were never formally introduced.

I've bowed to you for too long, and if I continue to do it, we will all suffer.

How you going to stop me, cupcake? Hit me with your book bag?" "If I have to.