Quotes from Lilith Saintcrow

Dru Anderson: You should wear some gloves. Graves: Ruins the image. Dru Anderson: You'll goddamn well freeze to death. Graves: Hey, we've got to suffer for beauty. Chicks don't go for guys in gloves. Dru Anderson: How would you know? Graves: I know. You never said if you liked shooting pool. Dru Anderson: I don't, but I'll beat your ass at it, okay? Graves: Fine. If you can. Dru.

But when the blood is mine, it can send the boy djamphir a little crazy. It's something about me being svetocha . Super-happy stuff in my blood even before I "bloom," something that reaches down and wakes up the crazy in anyone with a touch of nosferat . After the blooming hit, I'd have my own superhuman strength and speed. And that super-happy stuff in my blood would make me toxic to suckers just like Raid is toxic to insects.

It's easy to get rid of people, Christophe. All you have to do is rely on them.

I sensed him leaning forward. It's weird to feel someone's attention on you that way, like you're the only thing in the world they're listening to. Most of the time people are distracted, or just thinking about what they're going to say next.

Don't worry about me," I finally said. "Really. I'm more worried about you." And even more worried about where Graves is. "Are you?" A fey smile lit his face, and I caught my breath. It was a shock to see him look so happy. "Well, then.

The only place their voices were left was in my head. It was better than being alone but it was so, so lonely.

His thumb stroked my cheek. My eyes half-closed. When he spoke next, it was very softly, his voice an almost-physical caress against my whole body. My flesh tightened like a harpstring. I swallowed hard against the wave of liquid heat. "How can I possibly be jealous when I know you spent your time grieving for me, Dante?

Well, duh. You're cuter than she is." He said it like he might say, Grass is green or, Gravity works. Something warm opened up inside my chest. It was a nice feeling.

The end of a gun looks very big and very back when it's staring you in the face.

Lucas went even paler. "Then you're on the track to suicide," he whispered. "Take my advice, Valentine. Run. Run as fast as you can, for as long as you can. Steal whatever bit of life you can. You're already dead.

There was Kir, red hair combed back and That Expression on his sharp face. Even his freckles looked serious. I'd given up wondering how a freckle-faced teenager could look so much like a disapproving granny.

Christophe's smile was a marvel of edged sweetness. When he grinned like that he looked handsomer than ever, the hint of danger just about threatening to stop a girl's heart.

Graves: Are you skipping? Off to a good start. Dru Anderson: I don't want to deal with it today. Graves: Okay. I know a place to go. You shoot pool? I'm Graves. Dru Anderson: I know. Dru. Graves: Dru. You're new. Couple of weeks, right? Welcome to Foley.

I have set you as a seal upon my heart; I will not return to Hell.

God and Hell both damn it,

Zombies smell worse than anything you can imagine if you haven't been hunting things on the dark side of the world. It's a ripe, gassy odour, like rotting eggs and meat gone bad, crawling blind with maggots. It's road kill and decayed food and body odour all rolled into one package and tied up with puke.

Some days, a killing spree seems like a good idea.

Someday, Dante, I will discover how your mind works

I wasn't sure if the word boys should mean dim or incomprehensible. I was hovering between the two, with a healthy dose of testosterone-poisoned.

I pulled in a soft breath. My lungs were starving, crying out for air. I lay still, and a cough tickled at the back of my throat. It always happens when you're hiding, a cough, a sneeze, something. It's stupid. The body decides to screw around with you, even though it knows being quiet is the only way it's going to go on living.

There was a hole inside her, and it twisted.

They all looked like a shampoo commercial, healthy and clear-skinned, perfectly proportioned, a group of handsome young men. Their clothes hung on them like they were glad to be gracing such supermodels.

I don't believe in getting clothes that just look pretty or that'll fall apart—they have to stand up to a lot of abuse.

You can't ever stop thinking something quick enough. Something that hurts always gets the knife in too fast for you to slam a lid on it and shove it away.