Run first,' Shane said. 'Mourn later.' It was the perfect motto for Morganville.

Here's a tip...If you leave a girl crying you're probably not doing your Don Juan routine right, asshole.

Are you in the car that's almost caused three accidents on North Vance?" Hannah asked. "Because I'm following you with my lights flashing, and whoever's driving isn't pulling over." "Let him go," Claire said. "Trust me. You aren't going to get him to stop." "Oh, God. It's Myrnin, isn't it?" "Tell that police lady to stop chasing me," Myrnin said, annoyed, from the front seat. "Really, I'm not THAT bad at this.

When giants fought, ants were crushed.

Oh, hey, Claire,” she said, and blinked. “Where are you going?” “Funeral,” Shane said. On-screen, a zombie shrieked and died gruesomely. “Yeah? Cool! Whose?” “Hers.” Shane said.

Shane said, "Don't worry. I'll protect you." Claire hit him in the shoulder. "I don't need you to protect me." "Then why am I going first?" "So you can take the first punch while I throw the second?" "So I'm bait? Ouch. You've been in Morganville way too long, girl.

You're much shorter than my mom." "Brat," she said, surprised into a giggle. "That's no way to talk to a vampire." "Bloodsucking brat." "Better" he said.