Knock Your Bad Self Out.

I Locked The Door, For What Good It Would Do Me, And Went To Bed. The Browning Hi-power Was In Its Second Home, A Modified Holster Strapped To The Headboard Of My Bed. The Crucifix Was Cool Metal Around My Neck. I Was As Safe As I Was Going To Be And Almost Too Tired To Care. I Took One More Thing To Bed With Me, A Stuffed Toy Penguin Named Sigmund. I Don't Sleep With Him Often, Just Every Once In A While After Someone Tries To Kill Me. Everyone Has Their Weaknesses. Some People Smoke. I Collect Stuffed Penguins. If You Won't Tell, I Won't.

Jason Patted Me On The Back. “tomorrow Night We'll Take You Out Chasing Deer.” “i Thought You'd Chase Cars,” I Said. He Grinned. “what Fun Is That? Cars Don't Bleed.

Never Argue With Your Characters; They Know Themselves Better Than You Do

I Turned Down Halloween Parties Every Year, Where People Wanted Zombies Raised At The Stroke Of Midnight Or Some Such Nonsense. The Scarier My Reputation Got, The More People Wanted Me To Come Be Scary For Them. I'd Told Bert I Could Always Go And Threaten To Shoot All The Partygoers, That'd Be Scary. Bert Had Not Been Amused. But He Had Stopped Asking Me To Do Parties.

If The Eyes Are The Window To The Soul, Then Edward's In Trouble 'cause No One Is Home.