“I love that girl, Bertie," he went on, when he'd finished coughing."Yes. Nice girl, of course."He eyed me with deep loathing."Don't speak of her in that horrible casual way. She's an angel. An angel!”

“Angel?"Yeah?" she looked up, all blue-eyed innocence.I felt stupid, but... "Can Total, um, talk?"Uh-huh," Angel said casually, squeezing water out of her hair.I stared at her. "He talks. Total talks, and you didn't tell me?"Well..." Angel looked for him, saw he was pretty far away, and lowered her voice. "Don't tell him I said this, but he's actually not that interesting.”

“I smile at her. "You're an angel.""Nah," she says."I'm just a girl crazy in love.”

“What about you, Ellen?' he asked. 'What does music mean to you?'It was a while before she answered. 'When I was at school... quite little still... there was a girl there who had perfect pitch and a lovely voice and she played the piano. I used to hear people talking about her.' She paused, lacing her fingers together. '"She's musical," they used to say, "Deirdre's musical," and it was as if they'd said: "She's angelic." That's how it seemed to me to be musical: to be angelic.'Isaac turned to her. 'My God, Ellen,' he said huskily, 'it is you who are angelic. If there's anyone in the world who is angelic it is you.”

“I don't like you with Becky. She's not a very nice girl.''I don't like you with Jake. He's not me.”

“If it makes you feel better, I don't feed on humans." For some reason, it did make her feel better to hear him say that. not that she believed it. But still, it was a little reassuring. "So, you're like Angel? He rolled his eyes at her. "You watch way too much television," he muttered. Then louder, he said, "Angel has a soul. I don't.”