You asked me once if I ever get tired of being who I am,” he reminds me. “And the answer is this: only when I have to leave you.

If you get killed, I swear I’ll bring you back from the dead just to kill you again myself!

Something dark moves out of the corner of my eye, and the room chills. When I glance over, I see Death, watching us patiently. He’s so hard to look at. He’s everything and nothing. Beautiful and ugly, terrible and wonderful. His eyes are black waters that are too easy to drown in. I can’t even look at what he’s wearing; it’s impossible to look away from that face. He doesn’t spare me a glance—Maggie is who he’s come for.

Empty words from an empty person.

I laugh, a sound that he cuts short with a kiss that tastes like strawberries and terror.

But her story isn't finished, and for once she's picked up a pen.

It’s something I never knew about her. How bizarre that you can know your entire life, see their most hidden pains and hopes, and not know the tiniest detail about them.

I just wanted to go to...some quiet place. To forget. To be someone else.

I can’t help comparing [Courage], over and over, to his brother. Fear has a bright façade and dark insides; his horror and windy recklessness that carries millions over the plains with no hopes of ever stopping. And Courage… he’s dark on the outside but carries a light within; he’s calm and encouraging and his very breath is a soothing dash of water on a hot, hot day.

The most painful emotions are better than none at all. Ironically, we make you human.