“Like the end of a picnic, all the weenies will be roasted.”

“Life ended, a soul to save,” Grace said mournfully. “Decisions age-old are made. Is it choice? Is it fate? Forgiveness or hate? When love is what all of us crave.”

“I do so like all-encompassing words. Verb, adjective, noun. Yes, you are shitted.”

“I opine-I think you're a woman of your world,' he said from the far end of the couch. 'I would have a hard time seeing you pressed and powdered, dreading a life of servitude under the name of marriage. You'd die in that mold. I like you as you are, fiery and ill tempered.”

“Endings are not always bad. Most times they're just beginnings in disguise.”

“I didn’t like this. I didn’t like this at all. I had been worried about Al trashing a bar. What if he showed up here amid Cincy’s finest citizens and its most helpless orphans? I’d be lynched.”

“The seraph looked up, and pain sliced through my head as our eyes met, almost blinding me. "I honor you. You can do something I cannot," it said softly. "For all I am and all I have been, you are human. You are loved for your inventiveness, both good and bad. I can kill, but you can create. You can even create...an end," it said wistfully. "That's something I will never be able to do. Accept this. Create.”