Rachel Vincent Quotes

Hey." Tod squeezed my hand to draw me out of my thoughts. "I think death looks good on you.

And I don't think I want to meet this super-reaper." Nash stuffed his hands in his front pockets. "The garden variety's weird enough.

I laughed. It was just like Owen to make excuses for someone else’s shortcomings. Even fictional characters. Owen found my tendency to speak my mind “refreshingly honest,” and hailed Marc’s temper as “a deep protective instinct.” He said Ethan “thoroughly enjoyed life,” and that Parker “really knew how to have a good time.” According to Owen, we were all doing just fine, and all was right with the world.

But I'll be fine. I'll be with Tod. He's a good guy, you know." He just hides it under all the sarcasm and curls.

Tod's pale brows arched halfway up his forehead, and he looked suddenly, achingly wistful. "She knows not what she says..." Maybe not. But I was starting to get a pretty good idea.

But my hands are in the right place." "Heart," I corrected. "Your heart's in the right place." "Yeah, but my hands are in an even better place." And so they were.

I love you, Olivia," he whispered, and my heart ached as if it would break in half. "You think we'll die if we stay together, but I've been dying slowly for the last six years. I'm taking my life back, Liv. Our life together. And this time, I'm not going to let you go.

You're the brightest thing I've ever seen, Kaylee. You're this beautiful ball of fire spitting sparks out at the world, burning fiercely, holding back the dark by sheer will. And I always knew that if I reached out -- if i tried to touch you -- I'd get burned. Because you're not mine. I'm not supposed to feel the fire. I'm not supposed to want it. But I do. I want you, Kaylee, like I've never wanted anything. Ever. I want the fire. I want the heat, and the light, and I want the burn.

Because you don't belong with him! I tried to tell you that, but you wouldn't listen, and I thought if you understood that he'd be better off without you, you'd break up with him for his own good. So I...exaggerated how easy it'd be for him to get over you, with Sabine there to step in. But I underestimated how incredibly stubborn you are" "I prefer to think of it as dedication..." I mumbled.

Vanity, right?" Nash reappeared in the living room with an open bag of potato chips. "I nominate my venerable brother. He likes to play hero, and one look at him should establish the vanity angle." "Nash!" I really shouldn't have been surprised by the dig. But I was. "What?" He raised one brow at me in challenge. "It's okay to call me jealous, but not to call him vain?" "Awareness of one's obvious advantages doesn't imply vanity," Tod insisted calmly. Nash turned on him. "Does it imply narcissism?" Tod huffed. "This coming from the guy who owns more hair products than his girlfriend.

And I met Madeline's necromancer. His name's Luca." "A death detector?" Tod made a face. "That's creepy." "It gets weirder. He's dating Sophie." "On purpose?

Regret couldn't fix what he's broken. Apologies couldn't bring back what he's lost. What we'd lost.

In the end, it only comes down to one thing: choosing the one you can’t live without.

Now if you’ll excuse me, Death waits for no man. Except me.

I grabbed another. Aerosmith. Nope, can’t throw classic Aerosmith. I snatched a copy of the Thompson Twins’ greatest hits and chucked it at him.

Not even if you fed me your firstborn, still wet and screaming

Think of it as a second opinion on his value. If he wasn't worth the fight, wouldn't she just let him go? Wouldn't you?

In the office, Michael sat behind our father’s desk, clicking away at the computer with his right hand, and making notes with his left. Ambidextrous freak.

When he finally stopped calling, the hush felt strange. It felt like the whole world went silent when Marc did, as if I could see peoples mouths moving, but I couldnt hear what they were saying. Like I'd gone deaf.

Behind me, Marc made a soft whistling sound, clearly impressed. “That’s not standard procedure,” he said, his tone entirely too reasonable as he leaned over the stray’s body to open the back passenger-side door. “Yeah, well, I’m not your standard enforcer.

The other three incoming calls were from his building superintendent, his pharmacy and a telephone survey company." "Bastards. They always call during dinner." Liv laughed as I slid the sliced steak onto a platter and topped it with sautéed vegetables. "Forget crime lords and corrupt politicians - telemarketers are the root of all evil." "Now you're getting it.

Can we save the live demo for later, please? Bean Sidhe in angst, here.

A smart woman would have shut up. Did I? Hell no. Intelligence is overrated anyway.

She wasn't feeling nothing. She was feeling too much. She was blocking it all out. That was a survival skill, and her still-beating heart was proof that it worked.

Like I'm going to pass up an opportunity to smack your cousin.

I'm dead, not impotent. Nasty rumors like that must be squashed before they gain momentum. Feel free to emphasize how very functional I am.

Yeah. She wants him back and has decided I'm in her way. But I have news for that little sleep-terrorist--it's going to take more than a couple of bad dreams to scare me off, so I hope she has something bigger up her sleeve.

I don’t want to love him—this would be so much simpler if I didn’t. But I do. He’s funny, and passionate, and strong, and he believes in me more than I even believe in myself. When he looks at me, I feel like I could take on the whole world and come out standing tall. I like myself better when I’m with him, because of how he sees me. He makes me feel beautiful and powerful, like I’m the most important thing in the world, and I don’t know how to walk away from that. I don’t know how to walk away from him.

A field trip. You interested in doing something dangerous, and possibly illegal?" Does it involve underage girls, broken curfews and soorte4d fruit toppings?" I dropped the empty can into the recycling bin and leaned against the kitchen peninsula, grinning like an idiot. "Two of the three. And I could probably scrounge up some strawberry jam, if you're desperate." "I'm never desperate," Tod said, only his voice hadn't come from my phone. I whirled around to see the reaper standing behind me, still holding his cell. "But for the record, I prefer apricot." "Yuck. Nobody likes apricot jam.

So ... will you stay with me until it's over? Please?" "Kaylee, I would do anything for the girl who granted my dying wish.

Careful, pot," Tod said. "Someone might notice your resemblance to the kettle.

Faythe…?" The tremor in his voice broke my heart. Then understanding surfaced, and his tear-filled eyes searched mine desperately. "No. No," he whispered through clenched teeth. "This was not wrong. It’s the only thing I’ve done right in months. Don’t you dare regret this.

I wanted a do over. A time machine. That magic wand. But real life didn't have any easy outs, and very few happily-ever-afters. The real world was more like a Choose Your Own Adventure book, with most of the choices ripped out before you even opened the cover.

He took both of my hands, twisting to face me more fully on the flattened box beneath us, and again the colors in his irises seemed to pulse with my heartbeat.

10:38 AM - Third period. Kaylee has no class this period. I have no one to kill. Coincidence, or fate?

My shirt got torn in a fight. Yours evidently has a fast-release tab.

Sorry, but the whole walking corpse epiphany kind of threw me off my game.

You know, honey, Natalie's expecting her second." I arched my eyebrows at my mother, not following the change of subject. "Second what? Mortgage? Conviction? Chance at life?" "Baby of course. Her second baby. The doctor says this one's a girl." I laughed, genuinely amused that my mother thought it should have been so obvious. "Yeah. Well, I bet Natalie can't drop a Stray with a Powerhouse Right Hook.

What if I was the sexual equivalent of popcorn? Suitable for light snacking only?

Tod laughed. He was always able to find the humour in even the creepiest situations. I'd thought that it was an undead thing, until I became a member of the undead. Then I realized it was a Tod-thing.

I'm searching for a shred of humanity in that shriveled tangle of arteries you call a heart.

Kaylee and Nash are like those rocks that ancient cave people used to make fire. Bang them together, and you get sparks." Sabine said. "Let's never again use the phrase 'bang them together' in reference to my brother and my girlfriend," Tod mumbled.

This would be so much easier if they actually issued black hoods.

What took you so long?” Nash asked, as he slid into the passenger seat and pulled the door closed. “I stopped to donate all your underwear to the homeless. You’re gonna wanna take care of those tighty whities—they’re all you’ve got left.” He leaned against the door, either too tired or too drunk to sit up. “And to think, most people don’t understand your sense of humor.” “Fools, all of them.

You thought you could figure that out online? Somehow I don't think hellions are much into social networking.

Apparently the complete works of Shakespeare packed quite a wallop. To think, my mother said I'd never find use for an English degree. Ha! I'd like to see her knock someone silly with an apron and a cookie press.

Um, Faythe?” Marc reached for my arm, and a small grin turned up one corner of his beautiful mouth. “As my first official piece of advice to the new Alpha, let me suggest that you put on some pants. And maybe a shirt.” His grin grew and pulled me closer to whisper in my ear, while Jace watched us stiffly from across the room. “While the look definitely works for me, I’m thinking the other Alphas might take you more seriously if you dress the part.

I can't believe they even bothered filling that faculty position again. They might as well rename the class Defense Against the Dark Arts. I mean, seriously, who would answer an ad for this job?