We Hate Most In Others What We

But We Were All Young Once. It Passes, Like Innocence And A Sense Of Fair Play. The Only Thing Left In The End Is A Good Instinct For Survival.

I Tended To Be Hard On The Egos Of A Certain Kind Of Men. The Ones Who Normally Swept Women Off Their Feet Had Never Moved Me Much, Because I'd Always Felt That If They Swept Me Off My Feet They'd Practiced On A Lot Of Women Before Me, And Would Practice More With Women After Me. I'd Rarely Been Wrong On That. ~anita Blake

I Cannot Say How Strongly I Object To People Using Other People's Writing As Research. Research Is Non-fiction, Especially For Horror, Fantasy, Science Fiction. Do Not Take Your Research From Other People's Fiction. Just Don't.

You Cannot Die Of Grief, Though It Feels As If You Can. A Heart Does Not Actually Break, Though Sometimes Your Chest Aches As If It Is Breaking. Grief Dims With Time. It Is The Way Of Things. There Comes A Day When You Smile Again, And You Feel Like A Traitor. How Dare I Feel Happy. How Dare I Be Glad In A World Where My Father Is No More. And Then You Cry Fresh Tears, Because You Do Not Miss Him As Much As You Once Did, And Giving Up Your Grief Is Another Kind Of Death.

He Looked Less Handsome Without The Smile And Glow In His Eyes, But He Also Seemed More Real. Being Real Will Get Me Into Trouble Faster Than Any Amount Of Charm.