Please, Achimou? (Tory) You are the only being who’s ever called me that. (Acheron) Well, I’d call you babycakes, but I think that might offend you even more. (Tory)

I know everything about everything and before I dry off completely, which is something I truly hate, you better go outside, collect Trates, and have both your asses out of here or I’m going to lose what little patience I have. You will play by the rules I’ve set up for sanctuary, or I’ll use your entrails for armbands. (Savitar)

Verbal blows cut to the soul and ate at the heart for eternity.

Why didn’t you come tell me he was heading out alone? (Kat) ’Cause he does it all the time. Didn’t think anything about it. But now that you’re here I’ll make sure and keep you updated on everything he does. That way you can cut his meat up for dinner and help him tie his shoes and use the potty, too. (Damien)

The hardest part of living is making peace with your past. Most of all, it’s making peace with yourself.

Like this cake. It’s really very good. (Arik) As the girth to my hips will attest. (Geary)

And you, my best friend on earth, my soul sister who shares Chunky Monkey scoops and beefcake e-mails at the drop of a hat, the woman who made me wear a frothy, ruffled lime-colored bridesmaid dress that added fifteen pounds to my hips, are going to spill your guts to me, aren’t you? (Sunshine) No fair and the dress wasn’t lime, it was mint. (Selena) It was lime-icky green and I looked like a sick pistachio. (Sunshine)