Dreams, Dreams. I Walk Them; I Live

Look Who's Calling The Cauldron Black." "kettle. It’s A Kettle. Get Your Metaphors Right." "that Wasn’t A Metaphor. It Was A, You Know..." He Stared Off Into Space, Blinking. "one Of Those Things That’s Symbolic Of Another Thing. But Isn’t The Same Thing. Just Like It." "you Mean A Metaphor?" "no! It’s Like A Story...like...a Proverb! That’s It." "i’m Pretty Sure That Wasn’t A Proverb. Maybe It Was An Analogy." "i Don’t Think So.

I Think Adrian Really Likes You. Like, In A Wanting-to-be-serious Way." "nope. He Likes Me In A Wanting-to-get-the-clothes-off-the-cute-dhampir Way.

Too Bad You Got So Bogged Down In Books. You've Got The Spirit Of A Warrior.

I Don't Want To. Believe Me. But I Can't Help It. Rose Said In Time, I'll Learn The Control To Keep His Feelings Out, But I Can't Do It Now. And He Has So Much, Sydney. So Much Feeling. He Feels Everything So Strongly— Love, Grief, Anger. His Emotions Are Up And Down, All Over The Place. What Happened Between Him And Rose . . . It Tears Him Apart.

You Used Your Power To Toss One Rock At Me?" He Exclaimed, An Almost Comic Note Of Incredulity In His Voice. "on The Contrary," I Heard Dorian Say Pleasantly. "i Didn't Use Magic For That. I Just Threw It.