Ash sarcastically rang an invisible bell with his hand. "Ding, ding, ding. Give that boy a tropphy.

Sorrow spares no one, and scars respect no person.

Any time you need an expert parental hand- (Zarek) I’ll find Jericho. (Astrid) Um, could you at least wait until that thing’s housebroken? (Jericho)

Wake up, Astrid. Your psychotic criminal is playing with knives. (Sasha)

Interested in some ‘undercover’ work? And to think, I was actually having a tender thought about you. Do yourself a favor, Steele…Become mute.

You I expected better of." He turned his swirling sliver gaze from Sam to Dev and Fang. "You two not so much." -Acheron

Call me Buffy. I’m even blond, but don’t ask me to wear a halter top. Or corset.