I don't think most people take honest well. They prefer the games. They want to believe the pretty lies.

If your eyes weren't open, you wouldn't know the difference between dreaming and waking.

Adrian gave the picture a nod of approval before handing me the phone. "Okay, even I can admit that's pretty cute." I found myself overanalyzing the comment. What had he meant in saying 'even he' could admit it? That I was cute for a human? Or that I had just met some kind of Adrian hot-girl criteria?

His eyes, I’d long since discovered, could be as eloquent and expressive as his pen. The messages they sent me now hardly seemed decent for a public setting.

ʺWho′s a spirit user?ʺ said Robert. ʺFormer spirit user,ʺ said Victor, ʺShe became a Strigoi to get away from it.ʺ ʺYes . . . always a lure to that . . . kill to live, live to kill. Immortality and freedom from these chains, but oh, what a loss . . .ʺ said Robert.

I didn’t care about anything except her and the way touching her drove me wild, even as her calm and steady presence soothed the storms that raged within me.

And I thought the whole point of my education was that violence IS the answer.