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"Sorry. i just can't seem to help myself. My brain is freaking out. Two predawn mornings in a row. It doesn't know what to think, how to act. I'll have a talk with it later. Perhaps get it some counseling."
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Explore more quotes by Darynda Jones

"Why do you suppose I'm here? I asked him. Angel. A thirteen-year-old departed gangbanger. "Just 'cause you're supposed to be, I guess."

"I essentially killed those men. Am I slated for hell?"He stepped to me. Put his fingers underneath my chin. Raised it until our gazes locked. "You're a god, Dutch. And the reaper. You don't get slated. You are the slate."

"WHILE writing, just try to have fun with your ms. Enjoy the process, but push on. Always push toward the finish line!"

"I do not," I felt oddly appalled by her statement. "I'm an excellent liar. Ask my dentist. He swears I floss regularly."

"Does he ever eat cotton candy for breakfast?"He stepped around the counter to face us, lowered his gaze, and took a sip from the black mug in his hands."No," I said. "He's very much like the Big Bad Wolf. He eats little girls for breakfast."He spoke from behind the cup, his voice deep and as smooth as butterscotch. "She's wrong. I eat big girls for breakfast."

"Want coffee?" I asked, as I headed that way."It's three thirty in the morning.""Okay. Want coffee?"

"He had threatened my parents. I had to remember that. Still, it was really hard to stay mad at a wounded naked man."

"There's another part, an obstinate part, that wants more. That wants Dutch live and in the flesh. That wants her hand. Her mouth. Her hips under mine. It wants all of her. Every last ounce. Body and soul."

"There is a light at the end of the tunnel. A finished manuscript is AWESOME! So go, go, go! waves pompoms."
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