“I tortured people…” she said. “When it was necessary,” he agreed. “And you killed as well. If this had happened then, Keegan wouldn’t still be alive. But you were never heated about it. You wouldn’t let someone push your buttons. You didn’t even have buttons that could be pushed.”

“She felt the shiver starting in the back of her spine, the mixed inkling of fear and excitement ignite in her. She shouldn’t be feeling this way. He should disgust her. Because of him, her friends had just given up their mortal lives. Her friend Jacob, had been attacked by Unseelie. People had died from the very hands that were now so close to her. The very ones she wanted close to her.”

“Larkin found himself next to her now, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as if to comfort, though why he had no idea, for she seemed as calm as ever. Somehow, deep down, he knew that it was all a charade, a mask that she fitted in place as a means of protection. It wasn’t easy for her to trust.”

“She pushed the car. But I was so distracted that i forgot to push the button on the timer, so we had to do the whole thing again. Which Lindsey found hilarious. "Ok" she said. "Are you ready NOW, or do we have to send you back to Button Pushing one-oh-one?" "Um, what's Button Pushing One-oh-one?" I was wearing a button down shirt that day. Lindsey reached out and poked one of the buttons into my chest. "There, that's how you push a button. Any questions?”

“I’d still be nice to you if you were ugly.”“Okay.”A wicked grin slipped over his full lips. He bent his head down and whispered, “I just wouldn’t offer you any cookies.”

“It's a long story. Want a refill?""No, let's start the steak. Where's the button?""Right here.""Well, push it.""Me? You offered to cook.""Ben Caxton, I will lie here and starve before I will get up to push a button six inches from your finger""As you wish." He pressed the button. "But don't forget who cooked dinner.”

“I have met people who truly do not believe in God, and they feel no anger when they see suffering. They are indifferent to it. But you and I are angry. Anger is not indifference. I blamed God because He took my family. But I couldn’t get revenge from God, so I turned my rage against other people. I wanted revenge. Someone must pay.”“You’re wrong.” Helen said, wanting desperately to believe that he was. “I told you, I no longer believe in God.”“Then why are you so angry with Him?” His eyes were so sorrowful that Helen had to look away. She was unable to reply. “You blame me and my country for your losses Miss Kimball. And I blame you and your country. But you and I are people, not countries. Did you kill my wife? My child? Would you put a gun to their heads and shoot them, or take away all of their food and watch them die? No, of course not. Neither would I kill someone you loved if I met him face to face. Wars come from bitterness and hatred. They are started by nations without face. But wars end when the hatred ends in the hearts of people like you and me. That is why I ask you to please forgive me.”