“Now i'd like to tell u i did something heroic like stand up against a raging team of fire-breathing horses with only my sword the truth is i ran.”

“An Army is a team. It lives sleeps eats and fights as a team. This individual heroic stuff is pure horse shit”

“And in me too the wave rises. It swells; it arches its back. I am aware once more of a new desire, something rising beneath me like the proud horse whose rider first spurs and then pulls him back. What enemy do we now perceive advancing against us, you whom I ride now, as we stand pawing this stretch of pavement? It is death. Death is the enemy. It is death against whom I ride with my spear couched and my hair flying back like a young man's, like Percival's, when he galloped in India. I strike spurs into my horse. Against you I will fling myself, unvanquished and unyielding, O Death!”

“The revolution has no leader, I said. It was more like a raging wild horse that would buck anyone who tried to mount it against its will.”

“Your mother stands against everything my parents believe in," I say. "But I'm not my parents.""Aria," Hunter whispers into my ear."Yes?""Just kiss me."We press our lips together gentle, and it's like I am alive, on fire, like I can do anything in the world. I know this because he's a mystic, but there's something more familiar, something safe and sexy and irresistible about the way his lips feel, his tongue brushing lightly against mine. Our passion is like what's described in my love letters: it's like coming home, finally, when I never even knew I'd been away.”

“I'd heard of Vlad Dracul, but only the name. The kids at Cotton Maher never said much except things like "The football team's up against Vlad this Saturday. Pray for them." When I'd heard that, I'd asked the kid who'd said it what the big deal was. "Shut up," he'd explained.”