Sometimes evil didn’t need an excuse. Sometimes evil just was.

A woman isn’t a whore for wanting pleasure. If it were unnatural, we would not be born with such drives.

I couldn’t tell anyone how I felt because I knew they wouldn’t understand. Oh, poor little Christina, falling for the bad man who treats her like dirt because she didn’t know any better. And isn’t...

If a woman defined herself solely by the man she was with—and vice versa—the world would be a very shallow and insipid place, indeed.

I was afraid and knew I had every right to be, but he had awakened a part of me that no longer cared.

A story unwritten is without beginning or end. But in its potential lies another story; and in the heartbeat before pen meets page, both stories exist at once, reflecting endless permutations of the other, before...

I bask in that sympathy because it’s nice to have somebody who cares, even if it’s the wrong person for the wrong reasons.

Such a dark green, his eyes. They reminded her of the forest, of all the dangers lying dormant behind that verdant cloak of leaves.

I am waltzing with death, flirting with him, but he stands there smiling and saying nothing because he does not need to woo or be wooed: he knows he gets us all in the end.

Bring death to those of Evenfall.

‘Better to have loved and lost,’ my ass.Anyone parroting that little platitude had obviously never lost anyone of consequence.

Welcome to Arizona, you bastard.

We both want you dead. I’m bringing the friendship bracelets to the next meeting.

Knowing and doing are two separate things, and don’t always sync up in life.

Did you think I’d only want you once? Oh, my, you are more naïve than I thought. Why would I go through so much trouble for a mere tryst? Does a man ride a stallion...

For a moment, the cardboard sets come crashing down to reveal that squalling monster, reality, locked up in the confines of its man-made cage. It is a fearsome thing, beautiful, inherent only to itself. Faced...

If evil had a laugh, she thought it would sound like his.

Everything’s just fucking Disney with you.

Life doesn’t come with an eraser. Experiences leave their mark, for better or for worse. Anyone who tells you otherwise has never been hurt.

Happiness is such a fragile thing, isn’t it? So easily burst, like a bubble blown by a child, and always on the verge of being carried away.

But then, if if sex were the same thing as math, a lot more people would be lining up to take calculus.

Like X-Box. And X-rated movies.

Valys also didn’t think I was good enough for him. He made that clear every time he acted like a martyr forced to settle. But what he didn’t understand was that if he thought I...

He was everything your mother warned you about when she told you not to walk alone in the dark.

I’m as lucky as a bed of oysters on cioppino night.

If you’re so keen on me being healthy then you should have no problem accepting me for the way I am. That’s what’s healthy, Mom. Not being focused on all this freaky weight-loss stuff.

She had come into the garden expecting summer roses and had instead been caught in a bank of twisted, thorny, frostbitten vines.

Isn’t that just typical. You’re either asking for it, or having it forced upon you without your consent. Who decided women always have to be passive in sex?

Fire and water, logic and reason—those footholds of reality that you mortals hold so near and dear become like so much mist on the plains of the dreamscape.

Nobody should have to choose between a cold heart and a dead heart.

Too bad. Game over. Insert new fucking quarter.

My gun turned back into a pumpkin.

You want to be free. You also want to be mine. You can’t be both.

I want to be your last thought at night, and your first taste at dawn.

There’s a saying that you can’t put a price on a human life, but that saying is a lie because we have. We have, and it’s so much lower than you would think. Yes, human...

You are fifty different kinds of twisted.””Only fifty? Val, you wound me.

I’m more than a few neurons shy of a synapse right now, and it feels absolutely fan-fucking-tastic.

I’d seen entire constellations of possibility I’d never previously been aware of, so blinded had I been by the bright, glaring stars of expectation. Freedom, I was beginning to think, had less to do with...

Once a flower is picked it immediately begins to die.

I participate in BDSM, but I wasn’t abused as a child. I don’t hate women, or particularly enjoy hurting women. Sometimes I make them feel pain, but it’s consensual, it serves a purpose—to get them...

I hope you nail the bastard.”So does he.

Lisa blamed Twilight, and the preconceived notions about men (especially dangerous men) that it tended to form in the impressionable adolescent mind.

Maybe it frightened them, to admit that a woman could be master of her fate.

A lot of people have it in for me. It’s practically a school sport.

Crazy people always think they’re perfectly sane. It’s what makes them so crazy; their entire delusion lies within the fact that they believe they aren’t deluded.

I’m going to fuck you up until your mother bleeds.

The concept, maybe. But in literature? That’s like ordering a glass of tap water at a bar.

I cannot breathe, or see, nor swim,My darkness is composed of him.

Mámá was fond of saying that nothing tastes as good as skinny feels—an aphorism I was pretty sure she’d cribbed from the thinspiration sites she subscribed to online—but I believed that anyone who said such...

Time can be as fluid as water, and never in the way you’d like; it slows down to a standstill when you wish you could get things over with, and rushes by in a blur...