You and me are going to have so much fun, Rose. Picking out curtains, doing each other's hair, telling ghost stories.

Besides, I could hardly complain to the administration that I was being forced to learn magic.

I’m a succubus.” He shook his head. “No, you aren’t.” “Yes, I am.” “You aren’t.” I was a bit surprised to be having this conversation. “I am too.” “No. Succubi are flame-eyed and bat-winged. Everyone knows that. They don’t wear jeans and sweaters.

Do you believe in fairy tales?" "What...what kind of fairy tales?" "The kind you aren't supposed to waste your life on.

Throughout history, people with new ideas—who think differently and try to change things—have always been called troublemakers.

You're in an awfully good mood," he observed. "Was there a sale at Khakis-R-Us?

There's nothing worse than waiting and not knowing what'll happen to you. Your own imagination can be crueler than any captor.