Jesteśmy społecznością, która kocha książki

It’s illegal, you know,” he murmurs. “Stealing.”
I clear my throat. “Stealing?”
“My heart. I could have you arrested.”
I snort. “For that tiny thing? I’d get a misdemeanor at most.

There’s this guy I came across, not far from here. I thought we could, you know,” he makes a short slashing motion across his neck. “He seems like the kinda guy you’d go for. In a homicidal way, I mean.” “You arranged a murder?” Awww, that’s so sweet.

You can love a monster, it can even love you back, but that doesn’t change its nature. This isn’t Beauty and the Beast where my kiss would transform the monster to a prince. If anything, it’s Shrek, and his kiss brings out the ogre in me.

Like any fatherless child, I've wondered about the man responsible for the glory that is me. Needless to say, it's disappointing to learn he's the kind who'd probably eat his young.

I study the little creature in front of me. What is it about these dwarfish little humans? They lack smarts, lack skills and they never seem to have much money. Yet they are powerful little monsters – adults dance to the tunes played by their chubby little fingers. Is it the disproportionately big head? Or the eyes too big for that head? Did I have this effect on my own mother? Was that why she believed in my goodness, despite all evidence to the contrary?
Suddenly the lower lip pokes out and the eyes grow even bigger. I feel a tug in the region where my heart should be… I want to give it things…
Ahhhhhh! Look away! Look away! Evil, ensnaring, hypnotic monster.
Just kidding, but it is kind of cute. I feed it a cracker.

What do you say to your best friend when you stand at the gates of the gates of hell? Nothing. If it’s your best friend, she already knows.

Naivety is cured with time. Stupidity is terminal.

You said you’d cooperate.”
I knew I’d regret my promise, just not quite this soon. “You don’t wear pink!”
“Yeah, well, no one thinks I’m in league with the devil.”
She shoves it into my chest. I narrow my eyes. “I do.

Jo turns towards me. Her voice is calm but now I see her eyes blaze in a holy hazel fire. She doesn’t want to die, but she will, for what she believes in. I need new friends.

And since when does Hell have royalty? I thought they were all bureaucrats.” “Oh, sweetie,” he says, patronizing. “That’s cute.” “What’s cute?” “That you think celebrity children of powerful people aren’t royalty.” “Are you accusing me of being a Hilton?” I sputter. “Or a, a–” my head might explode, “Kardashian?” “The Hellish equivalent.