Did he show himself?” Nash asked, and I glanced to my right to see him staring at my father, as fascinated as I was. My dad nodded. “He was an arrogant little demon.” “So what happened?” I asked. “I punched him.” For a moment, we stared at him in silence. “You punched the reaper?” I asked, and my hand fell from the strainer onto the edge of the sink. “Yeah.” He chuckled at the memory, and his grin brought out one of my own. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen my father smile. “Broke his nose.

Meow, Meow, Motherfucker.

Eastlake High makes Buffy's hellmouth look like a crack in the sidewalk.

Ask for the impossible, then settle instead for what you really wanted in the first place.

Lit majors are not known for watching where they're going; most of us walk with our eyes in a book instead of on the path ahead.

For those who may not know this, Madeline recruited me specifically to help hunt and take out a serial soul thief-" "I call him Cap'n Crunch," Luca interrupted, and was rewarded with a roomful of frowns. "You know. Because he's a cereal thief?

Justice is for the victim.” Kick. “Vengeance is for the survivor.