Most stories are too good to be true. That's what makes them enchanting.

I do agree that love is wonderful, I began slowly, not wanting to offend, but there's also a certain magic in being perfectly content with one's own company. I believe greatness lies within. And is ours to harness or unleash at will.

If it’s a confession you’re after, I’m afraid you won’t find it here. I’ve not killed anyone or anything. Except a few mosquitoes. And I don’t feel too apologetic about that, especially after they took off with a hefty amount of blood and left wicked itching.

I think you’ve broken one of my ribs. Was that really necessary? Next time you tackle me, be sure it’s in one of our bedchambers.

I assure you I’m more than capable of hearing whatever you’ve come to say, Brother. The only thing that might kill me is the unwarranted suspense.

Please assist me with any advice you may possess. I’m much better equipped to extract a heart than encourage one, it seems.

Why must I either be docile and decent, or curious and wretched? I was a decent girl, even if I spent my spare time reading about science theories and dissecting the dead.

It seemed an awful thing for a medical tool to be called a breadknife when its purpose was to carve into specimens and not baked goods.

This is what they should be teaching us. Not vampire lore regarding a man who died centuries ago. Do you think it’s medically possible to open my cranium and stuff the pages inside? Perhaps the ink will leach in and create some sort of compound reaction.

I would not be treated as if my mind were inferior because I’d been blessed with the ability to bear children. I mentally screamed at myself to let it pass, but I couldn’t obey the simple command, consequences be damned.