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— Sherrilyn Kenyon"So you’re telling me that right now I’m responsible for Acheron’s beloved pet and the favorite sister of the Fates? (Zarek) Tell Fang-boy I’m not a pet. If he doesn’t take a nicer tone to me, he’s going to be really sorry. (Simi)"
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If you were close enough to her ruby-red lips you would hear her say, 'I will rise now and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek the one I love.' She is whispering that, and she whispers, 'By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth. Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth. My beloved is mine and I am his.
— Neil Gaiman
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Vonnegut's war was necessary. And yet it was massacre and screaming and confusion and blood and death. It was the mammoth projection outward of the confused inner life of men. In war, the sad tidy constructs we make to help us believe life is orderly and controllable are roughly thrown aside like the delusions they are. In war, love is outed as an insane, insupportable emotion, a kind of luxury emotion, because everywhere you look, someone beloved to someone is being slaughtered, by someone whose own beloved has been slaughtered, or will be, or could be.
— George Saunders
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