“Imagine my surprise, nay, my consternation, when without moving from his privacy, Bartleby, in a singular mild, firm voice, replied, “I would prefer not to.”

“don’t make me walk back without being beside you, holding your hand.” He lowered one arm from my waist to draw my hand to his lips. “I’ve lived for two hundred years with only the imagination of what it would be like to touch this,”—he moved my hand over his mouth, kissing each knuckle—“to hold this . . .” When my breath became weak, he lowered it from his lips, but kept it firmly in his hand. “Please allow me to escort you back to the house?”

“I'm boasting of my...skills, and I would prefer to do it without interruption.”

“When the poet Paul Valery once asked Albert Einstein if he kept a notebook to record his ideas, Einstein looked at him with mild but genuine surprise. "Oh, that's not necessary," he replied . "It's so seldom I have one.”

“Really? If I could hate my trainer? That would be ideal. I'd prefer to despise this person with the fire of ten thousand suns. So when I walk - nay, crawl - out of here at the end of my workouts, I want to lull myself to sleep by picturing my very talented and inspirational trainer getting hit by a bus. A bus that I am driving.”

“My kind [vampires] does not surprise easily," he said. "You surprised me, this morning. I have thus used up my full quota of shock and consternation for some interval."I stared at him. "You made a *joke*.""I have heard this kind of thing may happen...”