Quotes from Rob Thurman

You always remember the words that come back to bite you in the ass, no matter how much you'd like to forget them.

she'd also said more than once that I wasn't half as clever as I thought I was. Considering what I thought of myself, that still made me pretty damn clever.

I wonder if I brought my Silly-cat in…could you tell me what she's thinking?' 'I can tell you what she's thinking right now, no touching necessary,' I drawled. 'She's thinking if she were three times her size, she would eat you.' …Every cat that was awake when I'd smoothed its fur with a bare hand thought that. Every cat I touched that was asleep dreamed that.

That's what I have you for," I grinned. "I'm just here to carry the heavy stuff. The union says thinking rolls me into overtime

Who do you take me for?" "The devil?" Please. The devil wished he had half my style and a fourth my schemes.

Call my cell." He whipped out a card and passed it over. "Here's my number." I didn't bother to look at it. "I'm guessing 666- 6666." "Oh, right. As if that number weren't snatched up decades ago.

If I had a bad day, which, now that I ran my own life, was a helluva lot less than the old days, I sat on the floor with Houdini, placed a hand on his broad head, and soaked up endless doggy wonder. A full stomach, a well-chewed toy, a soft couch—through a dog's eyes, that was a true glory that couldn't be matched, the only heaven in existence. I missed the furball, missed him like crazy.

The guy had guts—I had to give him that. Later on I was hoping for a first-hand look at them.

But hoping you never saw someone again is a damn sight different from wishing them dead.

He grabbed the legs and addressed their owner... current owner anyway. "Hold still. I'll get you out in a second." Then he hissed at me "Trash goes in the garbage can, Zeke, not people." It was clear to me this guy was trash, but Griffin probably wanted to sort him into paper, plastic, glass, and human waste of space. See? Psychotic.

the bus is full of German tourists in shorts so short that they required a Brazilian wax for the men as well as the women. There had been thighs as bountiful as baking bread, as wobbly as Jello, and as pitted as the surface of the moon.

As I stood, I took in a last breath of spring-scented air, listened to the birdsong, and then saw a member of wildlife the conservationists hadn't planned on reviving in this place. A perv in a white shirt and polyester pants. A standard hide-in-the-bushes-and-whack-it perv. Fat and balding, it was as appealing as watching a giant marshmallow go at it.

You can't choose, who you are. No matter how you struggle, some things will never change. And maybe they schouldn't.

Alone: it was no way to live and it was no way to die.

Robin had presented him with a fake degree from a university in Athens where the puck had an old acquaintance who still got a kick out of teaching, despite hemlock rumors to the contrary.

Told me that when you bury emotions like that, you're only pissing them off ... making them stronger, because you're burying them alive. They don't like that, and one day they'll make sure that you don't like it either.

Mama said there was always a catastrophe coming. Someone's world was always coming to an end. It wasn't our worry to change every ending, only the endings we could

Get a grip, change your shorts, and move on to the task at hand.

She was more of a marble statue under a cascade of moonlight, smelling like flowers and ivy—the glory of a weeping graveyard angel.

When I remembered Stefan first coming for me, it wasn't a man in a black mask or a crazy guy shoving Three Musketeers bars at me as he tried to convince me I was his brother. I remembered an ocean, dark as a universe without stars-black with guilt, despair, rage, violence, self loathing. All I could see was his hand reaching out of the water; the rest of him was buried in a liquid Hell he couldn't escape

And he had it all over Octavian, let me tell you. Hung like a Pegasus, he was.

in a world of monsters, you had to be a ghost to survive.

The place was out in Jersey . . . Newark. And while that made living with yourself harder, it did make parking somewhat easier.

wasn't saying he smelled like homemade cookies or baking bread. I hadn't had that kind of home—probably no one outside a Disney movie had.