Immortals Are, By Definition, Immortal. End Of

I Don't Know, But I Think It's Going To Be Good.

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.

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.

Morois Are Born..but Strigois Are Made..!

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.