Juliet Blackwell Quotes

If it's not a dead body ... does this have to do with the cape?" asked Oscar.
"Oscar, I thought we agreed we weren't going to mention that to people," I reminded him.
"Sailor's not people."
"Sailor's curious," Sailor said. "What cape?

I gave to get going, anyway," said Sailor. "Just stopped by for a quick kiss, and to ask what time I should arrive for dinner."
"Seven?"
He gave me another long look, smiled slowly, and whispered, "Wild horses, and all that."
He picked up his helmet, gave me another quick kiss, and left.
My gaze lingered on his broad back. I turned to see Bronwyn watching me, a fond, knowing smile on her face. A blush stained my cheeks.

Living takes courage. So does dying.

The gargoyles were worth the climb: Some seemed so real they could easily have been demons turned to stone. One appeared to be biting the head off of some much smaller creature - a tiny man? - clutched in his claws. Another was contemplative, his monkeylike face resting in the palms of his oversized hands, as he observed his domain. Others stuck out their tongues, bared their teeth, made faces. Their expressions were so elastic and whimsical it was hard to believe they were carved of stone.

Don't be too nice to him," I teased. "He'll never leave.

Plants give us clean air and beauty and sustenance, and, perhaps most important, they represent eternal life. Even when they die they rise again. Their vibrations are green and bright. All as it was meant to be. I

M'ijita. That is not what it is for. And selfish reasons are almost always the wrong reasons.

The cat's not hurting you, Oscar. Get a grip."
"Mistress, make it stop looking at me!"
I pulled up to a stoplight and assessed my posse.
"Cat, stop it. Oscar doesn't want to be your friend." At the sound of my voice, the feline shifted it's gaze to me.
"There," I said to Oscar. "All better."
Keeping its eyes on me, the cat moved with stealthy determination, climbing into Oscar's lap.
"Mistress!"
"Stop it, both of ya'll," I said as the light changed.

I don't blame you," Genevieve said. "Sunnyvale isn't exactly Paris.

Oh. Too bad. Well, all's quiet so far. There was a heckuva lot goin' on last night, though. Think it might be one o' them poultry heists."
"Poultry heist? Someone's stealing chickens?" I asked.
Maya nudged me. "He means poltergeists.

- a freak. I don't want to be seen as a scary freak anymore. And with that I dropped a freeze-dried bat into the bubbling brew.

Free's my favorite price.

She showed this to you?"
"Not exactly. I sort of saw it."
"But she invited you into her home, is what I'm saying." At my lack of immediate response, Carlos added: "You can't go into someone's home without an invitation, Lily."
"That only works on vampires, not witches."
I thought I head a reluctant chuckle.

I was halfway across town when I realized I was heading toward a Wax Museum in a vintage Mustang convertible with a baby, a pig, and a mandragora in tow.
Land sakes. Was it just me, or was I getting weirder all the time?