You are the weirdest girl ever.” “Please. You live with Eve.

Goodness," Myrnin said quietly. "I don't think I should be watching this. I don't think I'm old enough.

And change isn't destruction. It's just change.

Did he just say--?" "Yes," Claire said, smiling. "Yes, he did." "Whoa. Guess I'd better stay alive, then.

Is this your bedroom?" she asked, and turned to look at him. Myrnin straightened and jammed the big red floppy hat back on his head. The feathers waved back and forth. "Don't get any ideas," he said. "I'm far too young and innocent for that kind of thinking.

I am not getting you a brain, because I am not that kind of assistant, Dr. Frankenstein.

Promise me you’ll marry me. Not now. Someday. Because I need to know.” Claire felt a flutter inside, like a bird trying to fly, and a rush of heat that made her dizzy. And something else, something fragile as a soap bubble, and just as beautiful. Joy, in the middle of all this horror and heartbreak. “Yes,” she whispered back. “I promise.” And she kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him, while the sun came up and bathed Morganville in one last, shining day.