“...You see I believe in that stuff to: yoga and mystical powers. I once knew a man who could kill himself on command. Can you believe that? . . . Why do you laugh? . . . Believe it! By will of his own mind, he could make his heart stop beating for good' My neighbor poised and looked seriously at me, searching in my eyes. '...You laugh!' he repeated once more… 'You laugh, but he was a master at it! He could commit suicide at his own will!' Indeed, hearty laughter streamed through my nose. 'Could he do it perpetually?' I asked. 'Perpetually...?' My neighbor rubbed his waxy chin. 'I mean, is he still able to do it?' 'I’m not sure I understand.' 'Well? Then is he dead…?!'My neighbor's puzzled face slowly began to transform into a look of realization. 'But sir,' he said, 'Of course he’s dead! I mean to say... this man could kill himself on command, you see. And you don’t come back from the dead!' The two of us found ourselves crossing to the door so I could let my visitor out. I slapped him with friendliness on the shoulder. 'No, you don’t come back from the dead,' I agreed.”

“Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Zane doubled over in his chair, still laughing hysterically. If he wasn't already dead, I would have killed him.”

“So did you really mean all that stuff you said when I was a dead man?""Every word.""Could you say it again?" he asks. "My memory's a little fuzzy.""Which part?" The part where I said I wanted to stay with you forever?""Yeah," he murmurs, his face close to mine, his breath hot on my cheek."When I said that I love you?"He pulls back a little, searches my eyes with his. "Yes. Say it.""I love you."He takes a deep, happy breath. "I love you," he says back. "I love you, Clara."Then his gaze drops to my lips again, and he leans in, and the rest of the world simply goes away.”

“You sayin' you want to go?""Don't you?""Hell no!""Okay,I'll tell Matt and Jared that they can go to Paris without us."The only response was stunned silence, and I finally turned to smile at him. "Do you want to reconsider?" I asked."The wedding's in Paris?""Yep."His dark eyes were huge, and I could see so much in them. He was excited, almost giddy. I could see it bubbling up in him, but he was trying t stay calm and not get his hopes up. "Can we afford Paris?""No," I said, "but it doesn't matter. Cole's footing the bill."He grabbed my shirt and pushed me back against the countertop, almost as if he was going to kiss me, but stopped short, looking into my eyes. "Are you serious?""Would I lie to you about something like this?""No.""Do you think I'd make it up just to tease you?""No.""Yes."He backed up a step. "Yes what?"he asked.I could hardly keep from laughing that I'd finally managed to turn the tables on him with his own backward form of communication. "Yes, I'm absolutely serious. Cole offered to fly us all to Paris."...His expression was so full of hope, I thought it was a good thing I hadn't tried to say no. He put his hand against my cheek and looked into my eyes. "Tell me what you want to do."All I had to do was tell him the truth. I brushed his hair out of his eyes and said, "I want to do whatever will make you happy."He smiled at me, the huge, excited smile of a child who woke up from his nap to find himself in Disneyland. "I want to go to Paris.""Okay," I said as I leaned down to kiss him. "Then you will.”

“I want you back, Annabelle.” This time my laughter is full of nothing but genuine humor. It’s that ‘oh my god, I can’t believe that’ kind of humor. I lean forward and put my face in my palms, still laughing. “Holy crap,” I say in-between laughs, “that’s hilarious.” I peek up at him to see his disgruntled expression and then bust up laughing again.  “I’m serious,” he grunts out, looking cute in his exasperation, damn him. Not done, I hold up a hand. “Oh, oh, wait. Just let me go get my gun so you can shoot me again. Of course I want to get back together with you, Gabriel.” Putting on a serious face, I say earnestly, “He shoots me because he loves me.”

“He could feel the strong, steady beat of Isabelle's heart.'I thought you were dead,' she went on. 'I saw you fall down, and--I thought you were dead.'Simon let her hold him, propping himself up on his hands. He realized that he was listing like a ship with a hole in its side, and tried not to move. He was afraid that if he did, he would fall over. 'I am dead.''I know,' Izzy snapped. I mean more dead than usual.”

“I was about to tell him he was wrong to dwell on it, because it really didn't matter. But he cut me off and urged me one last time, drawing himself up to his full height and asking me if I believed in God. I said no. He sat down indignantly. He said it was impossible; all men believed in God, even those who turn their backs on him. That was his belief, and if he were ever to doubt it, his life would become meaningless. "Do you want my life to be meaningless?" he shouted. As far as I could see, it didn't have anything to do with me, and I told him so. But from across the table he had already thrust the crucifix in my face and was screaming irrationally, "I am a Christian. I ask Him to forgive you for sins. How can you not believe that He suffered for you?" I was struck by how sincere he seemed, but I had had enough. It was getting hotter and hotter. As always, whenever I want to get rid of someone I'm not really listening to, I made it appear as if I agreed. To my surprise, he acted triumphant. "You see, you see!" he said. "You do believe, don't you, and you're going to place your trust in Him, aren't you?" Obviously, I again said no. He fell back in his chair.”