Keeping love buried was a lot like jeeping anger pent up, I'd learned. It just ate you up insides until you wanted to scream or kick something.

Hey." She said, looking up from an open book propped up on one knee. She brushed a few strands of pale hair out of her face. Her boyfriend, Christian, lay on the floor near her, his head propped up on her other knee. He greeted me by way of a nod. Concidering the antagonism the sometimes flared up between us, that was almost on par with him giving me a bear hug.

All this time…ever since I sold my soul, I’ve been clinging to this idea that there is something pure and decent out there. That there was something to give me hope that even if I was a lost cause, at least there was something bright and good in the world. But there isn’t. If there was, Seth wouldn’t have fallen. Erik wouldn’t have died. Andrea Mortensen wouldn’t be dying.” -Georgina to Carter

Jerome sighed and set down his fork. "Are you still doing that, Georgie? Don't I suffer enough without having to endure the humiliation of a succubus who moonlights as a Christmas elf?" "You always said I should quit the bookstore and find something else to do," I reminded him. "Yes, but that was because I thought you'd go on to do something respectable. Like become a stripper or the Mayor's mistress.

This isn’t a game. We don’t want mediocre employees who can keep the status quo. We want souls. We want to win. And you’ve spent most of your time here being mediocre.

But it's not the name I'd give to a conqueror of worlds... I would've gone with Thundro or Ragnor. I might just call him Thundro anyway.

Culinary science? You elected culinary science? That's the most brainless class ever. -Rose to Christian