Rob Thurman

Leandros's favorite place had turned out not to be vegetarian, but vegan, which was for people who preferred their suicide slow.

You're the little spoon, aren't you?

Look at the ex-demon with his big boy pants on now.

I have people in my life, of course. Some write; some don't. Some read; some don't. Some stare vacantly into space when I talk the geeky talk and walk the geeky walk, but they make killer chocolate chip pancakes and so all is forgiven.

When I remembered Stefan first coming for me, it wasn't a man in a black mask or a crazy guy shoving Three Musketeers bars at me as he tried to convince me I was his brother. I remembered an ocean, dark as a universe without stars-black with guilt, despair, rage, violence, self loathing. All I could see was his hand reaching out of the water; the rest of him was buried in a liquid Hell he couldn't escape

Pick up your clothes. I am not your maid. How do I know this? A maid cannot kill you with a tube sock. I can.

I've always enjoyed a challenge," Niko remarked, shifting through the powder to lift something out. "I think perhaps there are other things I could enjoy instead. Bonsai trees, painting, forging my own weapons. The opportunities are endless." He opened his hand to show me the small braid of several yellowed hairs. "Voodoo." "Think it would work?" I perked up. Killing from a distance wasn't usually my thing, but in this case, I'd make an exception.

If I had a bad day, which, now that I ran my own life, was a helluva lot less than the old days, I sat on the floor with Houdini, placed a hand on his broad head, and soaked up endless doggy wonder. A full stomach, a well-chewed toy, a soft couch__hrough a dog__ eyes, that was a true glory that couldn__ be matched, the only heaven in existence. I missed the furball, missed him like crazy.

I wonder if I brought my Silly-cat in_could you tell me what she__ thinking?___ can tell you what she__ thinking right now, no touching necessary,_ I drawled. __he__ thinking if she were three times her size, she would eat you._ _Every cat that was awake when I__ smoothed its fur with a bare hand thought that. Every cat I touched that was asleep dreamed that.

The guy had guts__ had to give him that. Later on I was hoping for a first-hand look at them.

Told me that when you bury emotions like that, you're only pissing them off ... making them stronger, because you're burying them alive. They don't like that, and one day they'll make sure that you don't like it either.

Niko was a man of few words and flying, sugary snacks. I like that in a human. ~Catcher

Good Samaritans: Truth, justice and the American way__or them it wasn't only a comic book code; it was a way of life. it was admirable, courageous, and inconvenient as shit. -Stefan, CHIMERA