Quotes & Sayings About Succubus

Five trolls in a dra-a-a-a-ag,' the four-inch man sang from my shoulder. 'Four purple condoms, three French ticklers, two horny vamps and a succubus in the snow. — Kim Harrison

He swayed side-to-side, fighting against my compulsion. I smiled sweetly, leaning in and grazing my nail across his cheek. "You understand?" Skin contact made it solid. His shock melted into a gooey grin.

J.M. Friedman. Succubus in Seattle (Kindle Locations 173-175). — J.R. Thorn

Ian's the black sheep."
"I thought I was the black sheep," said Seth, sounding almost hurt.
"No. You're the unfocused artistic one. I'm the responsible one. Ian's the wild, hedonistic one."
"What's hedonistic?" asked Kendall.
Her father considered. "It means you run up a lot of credit card bills you can't pay, change jobs a lot, and have a lot of ... lady friends. — Richelle Mead

Hey, Sam. Want to join me in the river? We can bathe before the sun sets and it gets too cold."
"Sweet molasses."
"What?"
"Stay back, foul temptress!"
"What?"
"Er. Not you. Uh. I ... sensed the presence of a succubus. Like, near here. Ooooh. So very near."
"You can do that?"
"Yes. Yes I can. Because I have magic. And my succubus-tracking abilities. It's a thing. A real
thing. That I do all the time."
"Riiiight. Your magical succubus-tracking abilities."
"Shut up, Gary! — T.J. Klune

I was least attractive at age thirteen. Puberty ensnared me in its sebaceous, cysty grip. I was too skinny, my face hadn't grown into my teeth and my hair resembled a Brillo pad. I outgrew Thirteen, but she lives on inside me like a succubus ever draining me of my joie de vivre. There is no way in fucking hell I'm a Suicide Blonde dancing for INXS on that list. — Shannon Bradley-Colleary

This is it?" I asked. "This is going to keep away an uber-powerful dream entity? It looks like a prop from The Blair Witch Project."
"It can't force her away," he said. "Nothing can. But it might make her think twice. It's more of ... a repellent."
"Like citronella?"
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, like citronella. — Richelle Mead

I know plenty of hyper-intelligent metal people, but at the same time, there's this dumbass, hardheaded, macho attitude associated with it. For younger people, it's like a succubus. — Blake Judd

Those Puritans would spice the Gallic stew of upper Maine for years, causing no end of trouble to Agnes, who, to be fair, was a witch and a succubus and everything else they ever called her, but that's no excuse for being such poor neighbors, when you think about it. — Catherynne M Valente

You had your heart broken much?"
He paused. "Of course. Everyone does. Part of life."
"Tell me her name. I'll kick her ass. I don't want anyone hurting you."
He rested his face against my hair, his tone even and gentle when he spoke. "You're wondrous and powerful and gifted, but even you can't save me from hurting. No one can do that for anyone. I can make things perfect in the fictions I create, but the real world isn't so kind. That's just how it is. And anyway, for every bad thing in life, there are more good things to tip the balance."
"Like what?"
"Like little blonde nieces. And royalty checks. And you. — Richelle Mead

To her you're just a play thing; she'll make you out to be a king, then she'll set fire to your throne. — Phar West Nagle

We all have moments of weakness. It's how we recover from them that really counts. — Richelle Mead

I stole your seed, the succubus said to his mind, and he could not deny it. They had done it to him several times in the years of his torment, had taken his seed and spawned alu-demons, Wulfgar's children. It was the first time Wulfgar had been able to consciously recall the memory since his return to the surface, the first time the horror of seeing his demonic offspring had forced itself through the mental barriers he had erected. — R.A. Salvatore

One thing that never changed among humans: there were always those who wanted to get something for nothing. It was what kept hell in business. — Richelle Mead

I believe also that often the Evil One works through second causes. And I know that he can impel his victims to do evil in such a way that the blame falls on a righteous man, and the Evil One rejoices then as the righteous man is burned in the place of his succubus. — Umberto Eco

The mirror sighed and spoke in a tone tinged with melancholy. Its language was old and not of any of the worlds known or unknown.

What you dream, what you darkly desire,

Find it by trial or by fire.

Seek it high and seek it low,

Search the skies or the realms below.

Look everywhere but beware,

The deepest magic, the strongest spell

Will not change what the stars foretell. — Sukanya Venkatraghavan

It's Dana! She's back early." He ran his hand frantically over Mitch's neat, blonde hair. "What's she want? What's she doing here?
"Maybe she wants Reese's pot back"
"This is my chance! She's here alone. She wants me. Quick." He yanks my arm and dragged me to the stairs. I cried out in suprise.
"Get out of sight. Throw that away."
"I'm not throwing this away! Besides, you don't think she'll notice that your whole fucking house smells like this? Jesus. Your pupils are the size of her granny panties. Virtuous or not, she isn't stupid. — Richelle Mead

Silvia, with her long gorgeous hair sprawled across the pillow, was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. Her breasts bunched up like they were stuck in a corset made by Derek's weight, the good bits hidden by his muscular arm. I'd gotten more than an eyeful in the mystical aura of the Blood Stone, but craved to see if she was really that perfect in the stark reality of dawn. Derek closed his eyes, settling around his wife with a satisfied sigh and his arm slipped. My heart leapt and I bit my lip. Yep. Definitely perfect.

J.M. Friedman. Succubus in Seattle (Kindle Locations 1050-1054). — J.R. Thorn

You know, you still owe me pancakes. I think I could go for ... apple cinnamon ones now. "
"Apple cinnamon? You sure are demanding."
"It's all right. I think you're man enough for it."
"Thetis, if I actually believed you had either apples or cinnamon in your kitchen, I'd make them for you right now."
I didn't answer. I was pretty sure I had some year-old Apple Jacks, but that was about it. — Richelle Mead

Longing surged up within me. I wanted it. Oh God, I wanted it. I didn't want to hear Jerome chastise me for my "all lowlifes, all the time" seduction policy. I wanted to come home and tell someone about my day. I wanted to go out dancing on the weekends. I wanted to take vacations together. I wanted someone to hold me when I was upset, when the ups and downs of the world pushed me too far.
I wanted someone to love. — Richelle Mead

Aubrey, crouching on a nearby counter, watched me with squinty eyes, apparently pondering why anyone would willingly immerse themselves in water ever, let alone for extended periods of time. — Richelle Mead

He was trying to conjure up a succubus." It should be impossible to leer when all you've got is a beak, but the parrot managed it. "That's a female demon what comes in the night and makes mad passionate wossn-"
"I've heard of them," said Rincewind. "Bloody dangerous things."
The parrot put its head on one side. "It never worked. All he ever got was a neuralger."
"What's that?"
"It's a demon that comes and has a headache at you. — Terry Pratchett

Hey, big spender," I said.
He looked appreciative but more amused than anything else. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a one dollar bill.
"Hugh," I said. "Don't insult me."
With a sigh, he produced a five and tucked it underneath my bra strap.
"Hey, Seth," Cody suddenly said.
I looked up and saw Seth standing in the doorway. A look of comic bemusement was on his face.
"Hey," he said, studying me. "So ... you're paying for dinner? — Richelle Mead

Seth told us good night and left.
I watched him go wistfully. Anyone else here feel like swooning? — Richelle Mead

Maxine wouldn't appreciate a visit from a succubus, especially one being tracked by a detective. But I didn't have a choice. I needed help. Even if that meant getting help from a nun.

J.M. Friedman. Succubus in Seattle (Kindle Locations 193-194). — J.R. Thorn

His eyes, I'd long since discovered, could be as eloquent and expressive as his pen. The messages they sent me now hardly seemed decent for a public setting. — Richelle Mead

A succubus on the set. Strike that, the health-conscious kid sister made it two ... succubuses. Succubusees? Succubi? Stupid Latin correspondence course. — Jim Butcher

Lucky Charms?" I asked.
"Magically delicious," he explained. "Requisite for any sort of building project."
I shook my head, still amazed at how he had managed to weasel his way over here. "This isn't a date."
He cut me a scandalized look. "Obviously. I'd bring Count Chocula for that. — Richelle Mead

Mentor's Official and Complete Procedural Handbook on Initial Succubus Intake and Probationary Period (Abridged).
"Abridged?" I spun toward Jerome. "Tell me you're getting back at me for the time I accused you of wearing Old Spice."
"That one's still coming," said the demon. "This one's for real. — Richelle Mead

I hope I redeemed myself with the whole dancing-sex comparison."
"I suppose there were a couple of notable similarities," I observed, holding a straight face.
"A couple? What about attention to detail, heavy exertion, lots of sweat, and single-minded determinedness to get the job done and done well?"
"Mostly I was thinking you just don't talk during sex." Mean perhaps, but I couldn't resist.
"Well, my mouth has better things to do."
I swallowed, my own mouth dry. "Are we still talking about dancing? — Richelle Mead

Nick thought that if a succubus ever got to Alan, he would probably want to take her out to dinner and talk about her feelings before he'd accept any dark demonic delights. — Sarah Rees Brennan

I want pancakes."
"What? Right now?"
"No. For breakfast."
"Oh." He yawned. "You'd better get up early then."
"Me? I'm not going to make them."
"Yeah?" His sleepy voice carried mock sympathy. "Who's going to make them for you then?"
"You are."
"Am I? You think I'm going to make you pancakes? Is that how you think it's going to be?"
"You're so good at," I whined. "Besides, if you do, I'll sit on the counter in a short robe while you cook."
His soft laughter segued into another yawn. "Oh. Well then." He kissed my ear again. "Maybe I'll make you pancakes. — Richelle Mead

If i had to choose between breathing or loving you, i would say 'i love you' with my last breath — Shannon Dermott

I didn't ask for your help," I muttered, too exhausted to properly argue. "So fuck you."
An alarm bell went off in my head and I bit back a sigh. I swore I sensed the mischievous grin that inevitably crossed his lips.
"I already did you."
It was going to be a long drive. — Natasha McNeely

Analysis is like a shock treatment, it throws you back into childhood in order to recapture the reparable elements, to reconstruct the personality. To reconstruct the personality it is necessary to find the original wound. You have to revaluate the past so it will not remain an incubus or succubus.
For example, I look at others with my own eyes, my own values, I evaluate them by my own standards, but when it comes to looking at myself, I look at myself through my father's eyes. I judge myself by his standards, and in his eyes I was not beautiful, I had flaws. — Anais Nin

The knowledge that life is finite was always in the back of my mind. — A.V. Roe

I disconnected as a sleepy Seth stepped out of the bedroom. "Who's Dante? Was that a collect call to the Inferno?"
"They won't accept the charges," I murmured. — Richelle Mead

You should make her call you 'Miss Georgina,'" added Hugh with a mocking southern drawl. "Or at least 'ma'am.'"
Niphon's presence and Jerome's lecture had put me in a grouchy mood. "I'm not doing any mentoring. She's so gungho to take on the world's male population, she doesn't even need me."
The three men exchanged more smirks. Cody made some hissing and meowing sounds, scratching at the air.
"This isn't funny," I said.
"Sure it is," said Cody. — Richelle Mead

I don't know how you do it. You aren't even blond. I mean, maybe a little, but mostly you're a brunette. I just don't see guys going for that."
"Yeah, well, some people are into kinky stuff, I guess. — Richelle Mead

What's wrong?" asked Seth, seeing my frown.
"That new drummer. Alec. He hit on me earlier, and now he's moving in on Casey. I think he's one of those guys who thinks plying girls with liquor is the only way to get laid."
"Wait. I thought I was the only guy who knew that secret. — Richelle Mead

When you say 'old friend,' are we talking, like...since the Ice Age?"

"No. Of course not."

"Oh."

"It's only been about four hundred years."

"Ah. Yes. Only four hundred." A wry expression spread over his face. "Being with you is a continual experiment in perspective. Among other things. — Richelle Mead

Vampires. Honestly, they're like children sometimes. — Richelle Mead

Me, I always wanted frost power."
"Frost power?"
"Yeah." Seth gestured dramatically toward my coffee table. "If we're talking superhero abilities. If I had frost power, I could wave my hand, and suddenly that whole thing would be covered in ice."
"Not frost?"
"Same difference."
"How would frost and/or ice power help you fight crime?"
"Well, I don't know that it would. But it'd be cool. — Richelle Mead

This is a, uh, friendship ring right?"
"Yeah, don't worry. If I propose, you'll know it. For one thing, I'll be hyperventilating." A sly smile - surprisingly sexy - turned up his lips. "And it'll be a ruby."
"Rubies? No diamonds? Too expensive for the old writer's salary, huh?"
He made a disparaging grunt at that. "No, I just think diamonds are common, that's all. If I get married, it'll be because something uncommon is occurring. Besides, you wear a lot of red, right? I know how important it is for your accessories to match. — Richelle Mead

Nah. I'm a consultant, of course. Everyone's favorite nondescript yet well-paid white-collar job. — Richelle Mead

If he slept, he dreamt of the woman with the icy white irises. She exploded planes, swallowed oceans and crumpled skies
in her palm in his dreams. Sometimes she and the green-eyed girl were one. At other times, the green-eyed girl was alone, a gaping hole where her heart should have been. At all times he could hear the woman's cold, low laughter. It swept across his consciousness like a hailstorm.
When he woke up, he thought he was going mad. — Sukanya Venkatraghavan

The love in his eyes was so powerful, I needed to look away. Seth had an amazing grasp of the English language, but there were days when that skill was nothing compared to what he told me in his looks. — Richelle Mead

All right, Mortensen, last chance. Are you ready to make the switch from voyeur to exhibitionist?"
He inclined his head toward me curiously. "Are we still talking about dancing?"
"Well, that depends, I suppose. I heard someone once say that men dance the same way they have sex. So, if you want everyone here to think you're the kind of guy who just sits around and - "
He stood up. "Let's dance. — Richelle Mead

Jerome sighed and set down his fork. "Are you still doing that, Georgie? Don't I suffer enough without having to endure the humiliation of a succubus who moonlights as a Christmas elf?"
"You always said I should quit the bookstore and find something else to do," I reminded him.
"Yes, but that was because I thought you'd go on to do something respectable. Like become a stripper or the Mayor's mistress. — Richelle Mead

I stared. Canadian Satanists? You're sending me to a group of Canadian Satanists? — Richelle Mead

Some men call her cyanide
For she'll cause and take your pain.
To others she's the devil
Or the quest for true love's bane,
And, to those less lucky,
She's called their ball and chain. — Phar West Nagle

A leering succubus, vile temptress of the Abyss, stared back at him. — R.A. Salvatore

Fox opposes a Syria peace plan because its modus operandi is to foment dissent in the form of a relentless and irrational contrarianism to Barack Obama and all things Democratic, to advance its ultimate objective of creating a deliberately misinformed body politic whose fear, anger, mistrust, and discontent is the manna upon which it sustains its parasitic succubus-like existence. — Jon Stewart

Things on the essential list: vodka, Nine Inch Nails, a steady supply of mortal men, and an all-purpose bitchy attitude. — Richelle Mead

It is hard to describe to you but I swear it was a fearsome sight. There were not eyes to speak of, but chasms that saw into its dark depths. A shade of a mouth full with phantom teeth. There seemed to be a skull shifting in and out of form beneath the black. Bound together by an unspeakable evil. — Solange Nicole

It's a Christmas miracle. I had no tree. Now I have a forest. — Richelle Mead

What kind of sick bastard burns down a Christmas tree?"
Hugh and I exchanged glances. "That's an excellent question," I said dryly.
Peter looked startled. "Was it you?" he asked Hugh.
"No," said the imp. "It was Carter."
"Your Christmas tree was burned down by an angel?" asked Cody.
"Yup. The irony isn't lost on me — Richelle Mead

Let me get this straight. You've just told me that I was bitten by a vampire, had sex with an angel, then I died, but I've risen again as a succubus. And you've wondering why I don't believe you?"
(Jackie) — Jill Myles

You're like a dictionary, you add meaning to my life — Shannon Dermott

I was dancing with an immortal august woman, who had black lilies in her hair, and her dreamy gesture seemed laden with a wisdom more profound than the darkness that is between star and star, and with a love like the love that breathed upon the waters; and as we danced on and on, the incense drifted over us and round us, covering us away as in the heart of the world, and ages seemed to pass, and tempests to awake and perish in the folds of our robes and in her heavy hair.
Suddenly I remembered that her eyelids had never quivered, and that her lilies had not dropped a black petal, or shaken from their places, and understood with a great horror that I danced with one who was more or less than human, and who was drinking up my soul as an ox drinks up a wayside pool; and I fell, and darkness passed over me. — W.B.Yeats

Dad told Uncle Seth not to screw things up," she informed me as we washed our hands. "He said even if Uncle Seth is famous, him getting a woman like you defies belief."
I laughed and smoothed down the skirt of my dress. "I don't know about that. I don't think your dad gives your uncle enough credit."
Brandy gave me a sage look, worthy of someone much older. "Uncle Seth spent last Valentine's Day at a library. — Richelle Mead

John Cusack is standing over there."
I followed his incredulous gaze to where a man very like Mr. Cusack did indeed stand, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against a building. I sighed.
"That's not John Cusack. That's Jerome."
"Seriously?"
"Yup. I told you he looked like John Cusack."
"Keyword: looked. That guy doesn't look like him. That guy is him. — Richelle Mead

My watch buzzed and told me I had ten minutes left to live. I turned my wrist to glance at it. Yep. This sucks.

J.M. Friedman. Succubus in Seattle (Kindle Locations 28-29). — J.R. Thorn

Since when do we even play games?"
"Since when don't we play games? Games of life, games of death. Games of love, of hope, of chance, of despair, and of all the myriad wonders in between."
I rolled my eyes at the newcomer. "Hello, Carter. — Richelle Mead

I'm a succubus."
He shook his head. "No, you aren't."
"Yes, I am."
"You aren't."
I was a bit surprised to be having this conversation. "I am too."
"No. Succubi are flame-eyed and bat-winged. Everyone knows that. They don't wear jeans and sweaters. — Richelle Mead

Feminist," he said, clearly amused. "Next you'll be telling us you hate men."

She gave him a blank look. "I only hate stupid men who don't actually understand what 'feminist' means."

He laughed. "You run into a lot of men like that?"

"All the time."

"Really?"

"Even as we speak, Nick."

"Oh no she didn't," said Peter. I groaned. — Richelle Mead

This is insane," I said blankly. "I'm the instrument of an all-powerful primordial deity's wave of chaos and destruction."
"That's kind of extreme" said Dante jovially. "It's not like you work for Google or anything. — Richelle Mead

His voice had changed again. He liked this. He liked seeing her squirm. He was absorbing her fear like a succubus. Lydia heard an echo of the last words Paul Scott had ever spoken to her: Tell me you want this. — Karin Slaughter

I jerked my phone out of my pocket and took a sharp left to follow the bold green line. I didn't fail to notice my walking icon had been replaced with a bicycle. Stupid Google. Doesn't have a "Succubus on Steroids" setting.

J.M. Friedman. Succubus in Seattle (Kindle Locations 1198-1199). — J.R. Thorn

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. — Richelle Mead

You are the world, Letha.. — Richelle Mead

Ooh. Top secret angel business, huh? What're you going to do? Dance on a pinhead? Lobby for National Cute Puppy Day? — Richelle Mead

Women are really strange, if you think about it. But this was no ordinary woman. This was a succubus - a life sucking monster. — Justin Villanueva

Seth was a wonderful kisser. He gave the kind of kisses that melted into your mouth and filled you with sweetness. They were like cotton candy. — Richelle Mead

Exactly," said Maddie. "What's your favorite flavor?"
"I bet I can guess," said Simone. "Chocolate."
"Strawberry," said Maddie.
Losers. It was vanilla.
"Vanilla," said Seth. — Richelle Mead

How come when mortals want things, their only option is to make a deal with Hell and sell their soul? Why can't they make deals with God in exchange for good behavior?"
It was another of those rare moments when I'd surprised Carter. I waited for the glib answer I'd mentioned to Seth, something along the lines of goodness being its own reward. The angel considered for several seconds. "Humans make those deals all the time," he said finally. "They just don't make them with God."
"Then who are they making them with?" I exclaimed.
"Themselves. — Richelle Mead

What were good and evil, really, but stupid categories? Stupid categories
that restricted people and punished or rewarded them based on how they responded to their own natures, natures they really didn't have any way to control. — Richelle Mead

It was a nephilim."
"A nephi-what?" asked Hugh, startled.
"Isn't that a character on Sesame Street?" Peter spoke up for the first time. — Richelle Mead

Seth laughed when he saw me.
"Hey," I said, poking him with my foot, "be nice."
"I think this is the first time I've ever seen you look anything less than ... " He paused, playing with word choice. "Well-planned."
"Why, you silver-tongued romantic devil. That is the look I usually go for. Other women go for sexy or chic or beautiful. But me? Well-planned all the way."
"You know what I mean. Besides, unplanned isn't a bad look for you. Not bad at all."
His voice sounded deliciously low and dangerous, and something ignited between us as we held each other's eyes. — Richelle Mead

Love is rarely flawless," Carter pointed out. "Humans delude themselves by thinking it has to be. It is the imperfection that makes love perfect. — Richelle Mead

- Maybe you're a succubus who hunts for my flesh? Or Mephistopheles, who hunts for my soul?
- Oh, no! I am much worse: succubus wants body, Mephistopheles wants soul, but I want you all, with your flesh and soul! — Bryanna Reid

I don't suppose there's a Georgina Kincaid Instruction Manual around somewhere to help me avoid these embarrassing blunders in the future."
"We sell them downstairs."
"Oh yeah? Is there a page on how to woo the fair Georgina?"
"Page? Hell, there's a whole chapter."
"Required reading, I'd imagine."
"Definitely. — Richelle Mead

And you work for that demon, right? The one who looks like Matthew Broderick?"
"John Cusack," I corrected. "He looks like John Cusack."
"Whatever. — Richelle Mead

Essentially the Succubus is a mythical figure - who used to come in and cause trouble with innocent men. — MyAnna Buring

I like your shoes," I said. Because I did. They were pink and pointed, and I wanted a pair like that so bad. My mom and dad groaned. Morgan looked at me and cocked his head.
"Thank you, little one. I made them out of the tears of a succubus and a lightning-struck tree stump I found under the Winter Moon. I like your face."
I grinned. "Thank you, big one. My parents made it when they got married. I was a honeymoon baby, whatever that means. — T.J. Klune

WHAT AM I? I howled at him as he retreated. A voice, deathly familiar, prickled at the back of my mind, instilling a sense of calm that came from deep inside, an answer to a question that was asked and answered somewhere in the depths of me. Soul eater, it said in a raspy, whispering voice. Succubus. — Robert J. Crane

Secrets are dark things. They don't exist in the light. They
glow faintly in forgotten corners, in mysterious mind-nooks,
in lost memory maps. Secrets are the shadows of the soul. — Sukanya Venkatraghavan

He was like a worn small rock whelmed by the successive waves of his voice. With his body he seemed to feed that voice that, succubus like, had fleshed its teeth in him. And the congregation seemed to watch with its own eyes while the voice consumed him, until he was nothing and they were nothing and there was not even a voice but instead their hearts were speaking to one another in chanting measures beyond the need for words, so that when he came to rest again against the reading desk, his monkey face lifted and his whole attitude that of a serene, tortured crucifix that transcended its shabbiness and insignificance and made it of no moment, a long moaning expulsion of breath rose from them, and a woman's - woman's single soprano: Yes, Jesus! — William Faulkner

He laced his fingers through mine and lifted my hand to his lips. I had gloves on, but he kissed exactly where I wore his ring.
"Why are you so sweet?" I asked, my voice small. My heart beat rapidly, and every star peeping through the clouds seemed to be shining just for me.
"I don't think I'm that sweet. I mean, I just told you to be quiet. That's one step away from asking you to wash my laundry and make me a sandwich."
"You know what I mean."
Seth pressed another kiss to my forehead. "I'm sweet because you make it easy to be sweet. — Richelle Mead

This daemon loves men whose marriage beds have grown cold, so she can set them ablaze. — Solange Nicole

Honestly, half the reason I like you is because you're so ... I don't know. You like life." He looked away from my eyes, amused as his thoughts spun, considering. "You're fearless. Bold. Not afraid to enjoy yourself. You just go out there and do what you want. I like the whirlwind you exist in. I envy it. It's funny, really." He smiled. "I used to think I wanted someone exactly like me, but now I think I'd be bored to death with another version of myself. I'm surprised I don't bore you sometimes."
I gaped. "Are you kidding? You're the most interesting person I know. Aside from Hugh maybe. But then, he installs breast implants and buys souls. That's a hard combination to beat. But he's not nearly as cute. — Richelle Mead