“Damsels? You get sliced open, burned, and dashed against rocks about a thousand times or so. Then we'll see who the damsel is.”

“You'd better come in handy. Something tells me we won't have time to be saving damsels in distress."Anna's brows knit. "Damsels? You get sliced open, burned, and dashed against the rocks about a thousand times or so. Then we'll see who the damsel is.”

“I don't care what your name is," she hisses. "And I don't care who you are. If you don't get him some help, I will burn your fucking place down." Go Carmel.”

“I smile quietly. She is with me all the time. I feel stupid now, for not seeing it sooner. But hey, at least we'll have this strange story to tell, love and death and blood and daddy-issues. And holy crap, I am a psychiatrist's wet dream."- Cas Lowood, Anna Dressed in Blood”

“Land of the Dead? Is that what you dream about?” she asks. “Boy who kills ghosts for a living?” “No. I dream about penguins doing bridge construction. Don’t ask why.”

“I sigh. “So now what? Can I possibly tell you to go home and forget about this? Is there any way that I can avoid us forming some peppy group of—” Before my mouth can finish, I lean forward and groan into my hands. Carmel gets it first, and laughs. “A peppy group of ghostbusters?” she asks.”

“I get to be Peter Venkman,” says Thomas. “Nobody gets to be anybody,” I snap. “We are not ghostbusters. I’ve got the knife, and I kill the ghosts, and I can’t be tripping over you the whole time. Besides, it’s obvious that I would be Peter Venkman.” I look sharply at Thomas. “You would be Egon.”