St. Vincent Quotes

I was no suffragette, but I was pretty sure the he-can’t-control-himself defense was a big, stinky load of horseshit.

So, what now? We’re friends?" Yeah. If friends could be in love, but not together. In sync, but out of touch. Willing to die for each other, but unable to trust.

Can we save the live demo for later, please? Bean Sidhe in angst, here.

Oh fine. I'll play nice with the pretty people.

Regret couldn't fix what he's broken. Apologies couldn't bring back what he's lost. What we'd lost.

But I had no plans to end my own life, and accidents couldn't be predicted. Neither could murder, unless my aunt and uncle were planning to take me out themselves.

Kaylee, you're adding two and two and coming up with seven.

When you push someone too far, they will push back and they push hard.

I grabbed another. Aerosmith. Nope, can’t throw classic Aerosmith. I snatched a copy of the Thompson Twins’ greatest hits and chucked it at him.

Then strong, warm arms wrapped around me from behind. "I've got you," Tod whispered in my ear.

Exactly what part of that is supposed to make me feel better?" Though, honestly, hearing that she was jealous of me did make me feel a teeny, tiny bit better.

I’m glad you think so. I’ve always considered my sense of humor to be largely underappreciated, so it’s nice to finally meet a fan.

So, 'reaper' is really just a nice word for 'covert pervert?' Is that what you're saying?

In the end, it only comes down to one thing: choosing the one you can’t live without.

Jace. This can't happen." I closed my eyes, thinking it would be easier to say without him looking back at me. But it wasn't. "This isn't about us. I can't leave Marc.

So could we please not mob the three-thousand-plus-year-old reaper like tweens at a boy-band concert?

And I don't think I want to meet this super-reaper." Nash stuffed his hands in his front pockets. "The garden variety's weird enough.

I should have mixed something stronger than Coke floats.

I could take care of that obstacle for her - I'd tear down anything standing between us - but I couldn't destroy what I couldn't even see.

Well that's too bad, because this is an assassination." "No, this is an execution." "The difference would be...?" "Assassination is murder. Execution is justice.

I laughed and it almost felt good. "Is that a dig at my liquor cabinet?" Cam smiled. "That wasn't liquor, it was swill. And that wasn't a cabinet, it was a drawer.

His safety was more important than anything to me. Even if he would never know enough to understand that.

How long can you keep me invisible?" "As long as were in physical contact." My throat felt dry. "Holding hands?" That's how we'd done it last time. "Unless you had something else in mind?

You think I need to be rescued?" "I think it doesn't hurt to let someone else do the rescuing every now and then, when your own armor starts to get banged up.

You just say the word, and I'll make the rest of the world go away. I'll take you someplace safe, where no one else can reach us.

Just FYI, in your case, I think it’s okay to fear the reaper.

If I weren't already dead, I'd be alive with joy.

From adult diapers to bedpans? Move over, Elvis, I’m the afterlife of the party!

Because the alternative sucks!

This would be so much easier if they actually issued black hoods.

Wow," Liv said, when I dropped the mallet back into the drawer. "That looked like fun. I call dibs on the next over-the-top destruction of evidence.

I realized that I'd rather die with you than live with someone else.

You two are cracked," Tod snapped. My smile widened. "Says the undead man in love with the soulless pop star.

Great. "So not only am I not-human, but Death is my arch foe?" Who, me? Panic? "Anything else you want to tell me, while we're confessing?

Unfortunately, unless the job description included a translation of the prologue of The Canterbury Tales, I was dreadfully under-qualified.

Tod's pale brows arched halfway up his forehead, and he looked suddenly, achingly wistful. "She knows not what she says..." Maybe not. But I was starting to get a pretty good idea.

So,would you say I’m closer to a zombie or a vampire? I gotta know—are my parts going to rot and fall off, or am I forever frozen in youthful perfection?

Sorry, but the whole walking corpse epiphany kind of threw me off my game.

Wonderful, a death match on my first day behind bars. Some girls have all the luck

Talking. According to Marc, I could talk the color off a crayon.

Why do you hang out with him?" "We're teammates." Ahhh. And if blood was thicker than water, then football, evidently, would congeal in one's veins.

Now if you’ll excuse me, Death waits for no man. Except me.

it isn’t healthy, how wrapped up they are in each other. Relationships like that burn bright, but when they burn out, they leave everyone blistered.

There was just no good way for a dead son to greet his mother almost two weeks after his funeral.

Anyway, I was the one in real danger. I got cornered by a pack of wild sorority girls in the food court. Apparently it's mating season.

Not even if you fed me your firstborn, still wet and screaming

So you’re saying the afterlife is hard on the libido? FYI, that’s probably not a good bullet point for your recruiting brochure.

Suggestions?" I asked [...] Marc never took his gaze from the cage. "Get the hose.

I've seen this episode. This is the one where Sylvester eats Tweety.

What could thunderbirds want with us?" I wondered aloud [...] "We'll find out when Big Bird wakes up," Marc said. My father shook his head. "We'll find out now. Wake him up and make him sing.