“Goddamn you. How can you still make me feel this way after all these years? Damn you for leaving me! And damn you for coming back like this, just when I thought you were gone forever and I might finally be able to forget you.”

“Beth,” he whispered. “Come back to me.”He brought more of his blood to her.“Damn it, don’t you die!” Candles flared in the room. “I love you, damn you! Goddamn you, don’t you let go!”

“How I adore you, Marya. How well I chose. Scold me; deny me. Tell me you want what you want and damn me forever. But don’t leave me.”

“Come back to me. Don’t leave me all alone. Don’t die on me, you stupid sonovabitch. You goddamn fuckingidiot. I told you to stay out of the damn fight! Why the hell don’t you ever listen? I fucking hate you. I hate you,you hear me? Don’t you dare die on me, because I need to kill you with my bare hands.”

“When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost. When I'm feeling most ghost-like, it is your remembering me that helps remind me that I actually exist. When I'm feeling sad, it's my consolation. When I'm feeling happy, it's part of why I feel that way.If you forget me, one of the ways I remember who I am will be gone. If you forget, part of who I am will be gone.”

“I come in all big and bad, and you use me for a game of handball.” I grin. “Makes a guy feel damn manly. She grins back. “It made me feel pretty manly.”