“A politician's Job they say is very high, for he has choose who has to go out and die.”
“The world is full of kings and queens. Who blinds your eyes, then steals your dreams. It's heaven and hell!”
“My name it means nothingmy fortune is lessMy future is shrouded in dark wildernessSunshine is far away, clouds linger onEverything I posessed - Now they are goneOh where can I go to and what can I do?Nothing can please me only thoughts are of youYou just laughed when I begged you to stayI've not stopped crying since you went awayThe world is a lonely place when you're on your ownGuess I will go home - sit down and moan.Crying and thinking is all that I doMemories I have remind me of you”
“Sam frowns at me, suddenly serious. "You know, I thought--for most of the first year we lived together--that you were going to kill me."That makes me nearly spit out beer, I laugh so hard."No, look--living with you, it's like knowing there's a loaded gun on the other side of the room. You're like this leopard who's pretending to be a house cat."That only makes me laugh harder."Shut up," he says. "You might do normal stuff, but a leopard can drink milk or fall off things like a house cat. It's obvious you're not--not like the rest of us. I'll look over at you, and you'll be flexing your claws, or I don't know, eating a freshly killed antelope.""Oh," I say. It's a ridiculous metaphor, but the hilarity has gone out of me. I thought I did a good job of fitting in--maybe not perfect, but not as bad as Sam makes it sound."It's like Audrey," he says, stabbing the air with a finger clearly well on his way to inebriated and full of determination to make me understand his theory. "You acted like she went out with you because you did this good job of being a nice guy.""I am a nice guy."I try to be.Sam snorts. "She liked you because you scared her. And then you scared her too much.”
“If you keep it," Daneca says, "he'll have his claws in you."Everyone has their claws in me. Everyone.”
“True Rewards Seek Those Who Choose Wisely”
“You are the best kind of killer, Cassel Sharpe, the kind that never has blood on his hands. The kind that never has to sicken at the sight of what he's done, or come to like it too much.”