• Only what?” I asked. I could barely hear my own voice. He turned his gaze back to me, firm and unflinching. “Only… more human.” And that was it. All the anger and sorrow vanished. There was nothing in me. Nothing at all. I was empty. “Get out,” I said.

    Richelle Mead (2012). “Succubus Dreams”, p.300, Kensington Publishing Corp.