“Don't they look like ancient island princesses, marked out for sacrifice? Sent away for the sake of the islanders, to be given to the sea?”

“She wanted love, adventure, and wild, fierce emotions that would batter her, as storms battered the island. I am thirteen, Christina thought, I am ready. I want it all.”

“I have this terrible fear of fractions," Christina told him. ... "Miss Schuyler thinks she can conquer it. Also a fear of running out of popcorn. Nothing could be worse than going to a movie and they don't have any popcorn, you know?”

“I actually thought you would be kind," said the vampire."Go away!" screamed Devnee.He did not answer."I didn't have to be kind," Devnee told him. "Victoria was kind for me."He laughed."No one can be kind for you, my dear," said the vampire. "But I don't mind, of course. I have you now. There's no escape, my dear. You and I, Devnee Fountain, are a team.”

“You have a girlfriend?" said Brian. "You never told us." "I'm not going to tell you now either. Don't tell Mom and Dad, don't tell Jodie, don't tell Bren." "Why not?" said Brian. "Mom and Dad would be thrilled. Unless she's some disgusting skank leading you down a sick and twisted path.”

“I wonder why we always deny love. I remember in middle school, if you were accused of the crime of loving, you screamed denials constantly and stopped ever even looking at the boy you were accused of liking. The boys could destroy each other by yodeling, "An-drew lo-oves Jen-nie," and both Andrew and Jennie would flinch and blush. Love is this great thing that most songs and books and poems and lives are all about. So the minute we actually think there might be love around, we start laughing and pretending and hiding from it.”

“It was darker in the tower than any place Devnee had ever been. The dark had textures, some velvet, some satin. The dark shifted positions.The dark continued to breathe. The breath of the tower lifted her clothing like the flaps of a tent, and sounded in her ears like falling snow.It's the wind coming through the double shutters, Devnee told herself.But how could the wind come through? There were glass windows between the inside and outside shutters.Or were there?The windows weren't just holes in the wall, were they?What if there was no glass? What if things crawled through those open louvers, crept into the room, blew in with the cold that fingered her hair? What creatures of the night could slither through those slats?She had not realized how wonderful glass was, how it protected you and kept you inside.She knew something was out there.”