“Even if I’d been wide awake, I knew Dimitri would’ve taken my suitcase anyway. That’s how he was, a lost remnant of chivalry in the modern world, ever-ready to help others.”

“I lost track of day and night too. My time was divided into Dimitri and not-Dimitri. He was my world. When he wasn't there, the moments were agony.”

“I’d never touched alcohol—doesn’t mix too well with crazy pills—but I knew at that moment what it must feel like to be drunk. Everything in my world shifted, and I knew I would trade every breath I’d ever taken for more of him. In a heartbeat.”

“Other people spoke, and I tried to keep up with the translations. All the stories were about Dimitri's kindness and strength of character. Even when not out battling the undead, Dimitri had always been there to help those who needed it. Almost everyone could recall sometime that Dimitri had stepped up to help others, going out of his way to do what was right, even in situations that could put him at risk. That was no surprise to me. Dimitri always did the right thing.And it was that attitude that had made me love him so much. I had a similar nature. I too rushed in when others needed me, sometimes when I shouldn't have. Others called me crazy for it, but Dimitri had understood. He'd always understood me, and part of what we'd worked on was how to temper that impulsive need to run into danger with reason and calculation. I had a feeling no one else in this world would ever understand me like he did.”

“Even if he was ever afraid he knew that he could do it anyway.”

“I could feel my blood just starting to boil, like when I’d lost my car keys and I knew they were around somewhere close, but I couldn’t find them anyway, and I wanted to scream.”