What’s her name? Claire, what’s her name?

Morely: You're trying to make me [i]Amelie[/i] Oliver: Goodness, no. You'd look terrible in a skirt

She looked creepy/adorable.

I never forget,” Myrnin said in a choked whisper. “Certainly not with your nails in my throat. They’re quite an excellent mnemonic device.

And Myrnin seemed quite taken with that, Claire thought; she’d never seen him look at anyone with quite that much admiration. It surprised her that it made her feel a little … what was that? Jealous? Couldn’t be.

Claire: Seriously? My mom? Let you in my room? In the middle of the night? Michael: Moms like me.

I knew you'd come,Claire.I knew you would.Dear God,you took your time.