“There's an inverse relationship between my temper and my ability to control my accent. If you hear me say 'Fiddledeedee', run for the hills, because I'm getting ready to take out bystanders.”

“If you want to hurt me fine. Take my books. Burn down my house. Shave my head while I'm sleeping. But nobody nobody screws with my dog.”

“I wonder if it would be unethical for me to turn James Marsters? And then force him to fake the Cockney accent? And then make him my love monkey?”

“And how is Jamie doing?""Fine. He seems to be spending a lot of time in the shower," I noted quietly, my voice so low that even Jamie's super hearing couldn't pick it up.Dick chuckled, followed by Zeb and Gabriel."What?""Remember that summer I turned thirteen and my mom complained that she couldn't ever get me out of the bathroom?" Zeb asked."Yeah, but that's because you were-" I slapped my hand over my mouth. "Oh!""Welcome to the wonderful world of parenting," Zeb said. ""It's one big, horrifying miracle.""Augh!" I grumbled.”

“I haven't had a lot of good, soft things in my life," he said against my forehead. "Not since my family sent me away. Apart from being your sire and feeling that pull to you, it's that goodness, that softness and warmth, along with the resolve and strength in you, that I love. Being turned hasn't taken that from you. If someone were going to design the perfect mate for me, it would be you. Even when you infuriate me with your pigheaded stubbornness and your temper and incredible lack of anything resembling self-preservation—""Stop describing me please.""You're the most fascinating, maddening, adorable creature I've ever met," he said, sighing and pushing my hair out of my eyes. "So, when I seem possessive or I'm raving like a lunatic, it's just that part of me is still very afraid that I'll lose that—that I'll lose you. I love you.”

“I am not the kind of girl who trusts a man to tell her everything she needs to know in his own due time, so I did some research on my sire. You can take the girl out of the library, but you can't take the neurotic, compulsively curious librarian out of the girl.”

“You are the night.""I am the night," I repeated."You are the night."I cocked my head, sending him a questioning look. "I am the night?""Jane!""Why is it that when you say my name, it sounds like a curse word?”