“His mouth tastes like Scotch, and feels familiar, like somewhere I've been before.”

“Feels like I've known him since before he got to the world—longer than he knew himself, truthfully. Seems like we'd been friends really...Somewhere before life on earth...”

“If you really like someone, it doesn't matter what their mouth feels or tastes like. The kiss is still awesome.”

“There's an expression, deja vu, that means that you feel like you've been somewhere before, that you've somehow already dreamed it or experienced it in your mind.”

“I've never been shot, but this probably what it feels like, that second of nothingness right before the pain catches up to the bullet.”

“She turned away in dismissal, only to have him grab her hand and whirl her around again. Before her startled gasp died, his mouth was on hers, his fingers buried in her hair. [...]He tasted like nothing she’d ever tasted before. Like dark fantasy. Like the sweetest temptation imaginable. And his scent! He smelled of cool night air and warm leather jacket and heated male skin.”