“A man with six fingers on one hand who gets his finger cutoff by the mafia probably doesn’t feel pain, fear, or anger. No, that man probably feels normal.”

“Even though my finger will probably get all infected now and swell up like a bloated corpse, I want you to know that I'll probably forgive you someday."He slid his hand down her arm and squeezed her fingers tight."But today's not your day...and tomorrow ain't lookin' too good either."~Drake”

“It was one of those perfect New York October afternoons, when the explosion of oranges and yellows against the bright blue sky makes you feel like your life is passing through your fingers, that you've felt this autumn-feeling before and you'll probably get to feel it again, but one day you won't anymore, because you'll be dead.”

“She reached out, her fingers hesitant. The deer—Knox—tilted his head down, letting her touch his antlers. Her hand trembled slightly as she caressed the boney protrusion. The ivory tines were warmer than she thought they’d be, a living extension of the man inside. She petted his pelt next, charmed by the coarse fur and the feel of his muscles bunching and moving underneath.Sitting back, she winked up at him. "You probably get this a lot,but…nice rack.”The deer flashed back into a man who tackled her onto her pillows with a wolfy growl. “Always gotta be the smartass, don’t you?”

“Jacob looks like a totally normal young man. He's clearly intelligent. But having his day disrupted probably makes him feel the same way I would if I was suddenly told to bungee off the top of the Sears Tower.”

“If a man smiles all the time, he’s probably selling something that doesn’t work.”