“I hate this case,' stated Gibbons unequivocally. 'I don’t know what really happened, I shall probably never know what really happened, and I shall still be a detective sergeant when I’m sixty.”

“Gibbons wondered vaguely if he was becoming a morphine addict. He had certainly dosed himself into a stupid on account of the hideous pain resulting from the nurse's insistence that he get up and sit in a chair. He rather thought that being a drug addict would interfere with his career as a police detective, but that didn't seem to matter as much as it had a little while ago.”

“Somebody's girlfriend," she said. "Somebody's sister, somebody's daughter. All these things I never knew I was before, and I still don't really know what I am.”

“When I look at my relationship with God as a chore, a sacrifice, then I am getting the glory- not God. I keep saying, 'Look what I have sacrificed for God...' or 'Listen to what I do for for God. It's hard, exhausting really...'.”

“I can see that you’re down in the dumps, Unc. Shall we stop working and call Toni?”“And then what?”“I don’t know. But if it so happens that I’m more of your type . . . Would you like me to give you a blow job? That really does the trick when you’re feeling depressed.”

“Listen, I don’t know what the hell happened between you and Marco. To be honest I don’t really want to know, ’cause if I did I’d probably want to kick the shit outta him.”“I don’t need you to protect me.”“What if I want to?”

“Then forget Gabriel. Is there a particular reason you keep biting vampires?”Will touched the dried blood on his wrists and smiled. “They don’t expect it.”“Of course they don’t. They know what happens when one of us consumes vampire blood. They probably expect you to have more sense.”“That expectation never seems to serve them very well, does it?”“It hardly serves you, either.”