Quotes from Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Is that your professional take on the situation?" I kept my voice dry and caustic. This wasn't worth yelling over. It wasn't even worth a heated whisper.

Second thoughts? About the Squad?" She nodded. "I'm starting to think the CIA is seriously deranged for letting us do this," I told her, "but that doesn't mean I don't want to do it." I paused. "Actually, the fact that we probably shouldn't be doing this kind of makes me want to do it more." Zee snorted. "Adrenaline junkie," she accused.

She'd let me in, and for the first time, I actually wanted to do the same, to tell someone the truth. That I wasn't normal. That I wasn't human.

Adam's blue eyes flicked briefly over to mine as he directed me to turn onto a major street. Once he was satisfied that I could, in fact, turn without causing my car—or any car in the near vicinity—to explode, he allowed himself to actually converse. "You don't trust people?" "Not to hit my car, or not to screw up my life?" "Either." That seemed like more of an answer than a question, so I didn't reply.

This is why you don't call the police. Or Preternatural Control. No matter what. Ever. If I'd doubted that rule--and I was fairly sure I never had--I certainly never would have again. My skin itched just talking to the authorities....The police department had more than a few open cases with my name on them--figuratively, and I had no desire to make that literal [where they connected me to] the vigilante responsible for dozens of area beastie slayings....

Women shouldn't have to fade into the background to be safe.

Don't you know by now, Heiress? I never get caught.

But when he smiled, I still felt seven years old and about three inches tall.

Home isn't a place. It's not having a bed to come home to, or a yard, or a Christmas tree at the holidays. Home is the people who love you.

My client," the lawyer said forcefully, "is pleading the Fifth.

Picture yourself standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The wind is whipping in your hair. The sun is setting. You long, body and soul, for one thing. One person. You hear footsteps behind you. You turn. Who's there?

I don't need your permission to search your locker." The headmaster's tone drew my attention back in his direction. This, I inferred from the rise in volume, was supposed to be the voice of authority. If you didn't need my permission, I thought, then why did you ask for it?

I told you that I was considering a mission trip. I am here to bring the love of God to these poor, backward billionaires. It's an ugly job, but someone's got to do it.

I lie to her. Because this world is not safe. The people who are supposed to protect us, the people we are supposed to trust -- I know that sometimes they are the ones who do the most harm.

I wondered and I prayed and I Googled.

It might feel better to give to someone you know than a stranger, or to donate to an organization whose story brings a tear to your eye, but that's your brain playing tricks on you. The morality of an action depends, ultimately and only, on its outcomes.

Ready." Libby looked down at the water balloons she held in each hand–and at her twin tattoos: SURVIVOR on one wrist, and on the other ... TRUST.

Do you know what philanthropist means?" Libby asked me seriously. "It means rich.

Celine snorted. "Never have I ever had a thing for blondes," she said. And then, her eyes on Sloane, she shot our statistician a dazzling smile and lowered her own finger —meaning that she did have a thing for blondes.

Everyone is a little wrong sometimes, Heiress.

Do you trust me, Heiress?" Jameson had donned a leather jacket. He looked like trouble. The good kind.

When you're hurting, you hurt yourself.

How many ways did rich people have of not saying the word rich?

Emilia stared at me for three or four more seconds, then gave up on pumping me for information. "We should go," she decided with the force of a monarch declaring law. "I have Latin first period. The Aeneid waits for no man.