You lie like butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, Edward." He smiled. "I don't lie to you." "Really," I said. The smile became a grin. "Okay, not most of the time, anymore." His face sobered. "I'm not lying now.
What is love? Sometimes it's just letting yourself be who and what you are, and letting the person you're supposed to love be who and what he is too. Or maybe what and who they are.
There comes a point when you just love someone. Not because they're good, or bad, or anything really. You just love them. It doesn't mean you'll be together forever. It doesn't mean you won't hurt each other. It just mean you love them. Sometimes in spite of who they are, and sometimes because of who they are. And you know that they love you, sometimes because of who you are, and sometimes in spite of it.
Because everything worth having hurts.
There are some things more important than physical survival. You gotta be able to look at yourself in the mirror.
...you don't need ghosts to be haunted. Memory does that just fine without any supernatural help at all.
Never argue with your characters; they know themselves better than you do
I thought of several alec smart remarks, but you should humor crazy people when you're at their mercy; it's a rule.
All men love to talk about themselves, even the ones who are completely buggers.
I wasn't afraid of him anymore, because I could smell his fear. You never had to be afraid of anything that was afraid of you.
Some people just don't seem to understand the concept of fiction. It is fiction; it ain't true, folks
I will go to my grave seeing the look on your face at the last. Keep it up and you'll go sooner than later.
Anyone who tells you size doesn't matter has been seeing too many small knives.
If I wanted death, Edward would give it to me. Because we both understand that it isn't death that we fear. It's living.
I'm not sure there are enough white roses in the world to make me forget Richard." I held up my hand before she could interrupt. "But I'm not sure there are enough cozy afternoons in all eternity to make me forget Jean-Claude.
You awful hard to kill, Anita.' 'There's a first time, Luther, and that's all it takes.
Since you won't give me your names I'll call you Thing One and Thing Two.
It feels like we're in a Harry Potter book talking about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
If people would write exactly what I wanted to read I wouldn't feel so compelled to write myself
Jason patted me on the back. “Tomorrow night we'll take you out chasing deer.” “I thought you'd chase cars,” I said. He grinned. “What fun is that? Cars don't bleed.
I know who and what I am. I am the Executioner, and I don't date vampires. I kill them.
I would rather you love me, but if not love, fear will do.
In real life I do violence, but for psychic stuff I do other things better.
Tell that to the BTK killer,” I said. “He was a churchgoer, raised two kids, married, and resisted the urge to kill for decades. He was a person, but he was a monster, too
Edward smiled, I smiled, even Bernardo smiled. Olaf just looked sinister.
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