But, self, that thing was on TV, and this one wants to tear your liver out your nose. Run.

Dear Lynda Carter, Please be with me in my hour of need. Especially if I don't have to twirl around to get my powers.

The room continued to spin though she was standing still, but her ears were hot. She felt like she'd just slammed three doubles of tequila and needed a fistfight chaser.

Right now. Living. Aiming to misbehave or just trying not to fade away.

Infighting would be stupid, since, y'know, claws and teeth.

When you find love, you take it. You grab it with both hands and you do everything in your power not to let it go. You can’t just walk away from it and expect it to linger until you’re ready for it.

You were brought to where you are standing now because the decisions you took some time back have held you by your hands and dragged you this far.

God doesn't send atheists to Hell -- there's no room with all the Christians down there.

Orthodoxy is the diehard of the world of thought. It learns not, neither can it forget.

Pain is pain. It needs no description.

It's so nerve-wracking to go out into a stadium, feeling a billion eyes upon you when you mess up your touches. That's an overwhelming environment.

The story in that particular spot was an ancient history story, and we wanted to give it a historical feeling, which was why we used a historical calligraphy scroll come to life.

To put your life in danger from time to time... breeds a saneness in dealing with day-to-day trivialities.

The burden of the incommunicable.