God, I needed you," he murmured. "I can't even tell you how many times I thought about this. The funny thing is, I don't need you any less now. I think I need you more." ~Shane~

That's very rude," Myrnin said. "I haven't brought my fangs our for some time. Not in mixed company, anyway.

Shane talking to Claire - "Hang on - Slow down. I'm not going anywhere. You know that, right? You don't have to put out to keep me here. Well, as long as you eventually..." "Shut up" Claire said.

Here. Have a Coke. That’s good for a sore throat, right?” “Good for everything,” Shane croaked, and took the extended cold can with good grace. “Thanks.” “You owe me a dollar,” Eve said. “I’ll add it to the five thousand you already owe me, though.” He blew her a kiss, and she stuck her tongue out at him, and that was the end of the subject, thankfully.

You're dead," I repeated. "So why are you in my dream?" He raised the bill of his olive drab ball cap with one finger. " Good question. Morbid, isn't it?" "What?" "Dreaming about dead peolpe. Creepy. You ever see a therapist about that?" "I'm not -" Even in dreams, I couldn't win an argument. Even when he was dead.

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.

He hung up on her. She'd just been hung up on by a disembodied brain in a jar. Fantastic.