While books provided me with some escape from the mental and physical horrors of my early life, they were unreliable. Many times the protagonists suffered terribly and then died at the end.

You are so vicious. (Tee) Hence the nickname. (Syd) You know it’s bad when you make me look like Glinda the Good Witch, right? (Tee) Just call me Elphaba. But don’t drop a house on me, ‘kay? (Syd)

It seemed his demon couldn't tell the physical difference between when he was in danger and when he was "in" Danger.

I’ve even delivered a few of their babies. (Wulf) Really? (Cassandra) Oh, yeah. You have to love the days before modern roads, and hospitals when I was up to my elbows in placenta. (Wulf)

When you love someone, truly love them, you lay your heart open to them. You give them a part of yourself that you give to no one else, and you let them inside a part of you that only they can hurt-you literally hand them the razor with a map of where to cut deepest and most painfully on your heart and soul. And when they do strike, it’s crippling-like having your heart carved out.

Well . . . he lets it ruin his life. He gets so obsessed with going after the one thing that hurt him that he loses sight of everything else. He becomes isolated from everyone and everything. Paranoid. He feels like he can't trust anyone around him ever. In the end, he loses everything, even his life. And for what? Total stupidity, if you ask me.

Oh, gods, you’re mated! I really hope it’s to Aimee. (Bride) Thankfully so. Otherwise I’d have had to kill me some ho and then beat Fang senseless. (Aimee)