“Don't listen," whispered Faber. "He's trying to confuse. He's slippery. Watch out.”

“Patrick's handsome face descended toward mine. He stopped when he was just a whisper away. "You have a beautiful mouth."God, he was magnificent. Such harsh, sensual beauty. The luck of genetics and vampirism and gym time? Who knew?He watched me watching him and I knew he was probably in my head, listening in on my thoughts, my confusion. He grinned, just a little, and I knew that rotten, ugly, fat troll was reading my mind.He laughed, unrepentant, and his breath plumed my lips. How the hell did he do that? How could he pretend to breathe? Or better yet, why did he pretend to breathe?”

“Even though I don't personally believe in the Lord, I try to behave as though He was watching.”

“As he passed out, he used to look with wonder at the black confessionals and long to sit in the dim shadow of one of them and listen to men and women whispering through the worn grating the true story of their lives.”

“Listen' he whispered ferociously, like a ferocious breeze or a very gentle hurricane.”

“Menfolks listens to somebody because of what he says. Women don't. They don't care what he said. They listens because of what he is.”