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He probably had to fend horny people off with a stick every time he left his home.
Where does one purchase cooking equipment in the twenty-first century?
I sit at my desk at 2 in the morning, desperately trying to remind myself that Miss Greenberg is a lady.
God’s thumbs, but I am the worst, filthiest sort of reprobate.
he’d never understand how it made me feel to take what other people threw away and turn it into art that would outlast us all.
I always did my best thinking at the dump.
Drinking blood meant for human patients who needed it would also lead to human deaths, even if indirectly.
Ummmmm in the three centuries Ive known you youve never once asked my opinion on your clothes or appearance
“I . . . was once known for my straightforward demeanor,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “It was an admirable trait among men at the time. I gather that now, one must mince words often in order not to offend.” He paused again. “None of this is intuitive to me. I feel I shall forever be a bumbling idiot in public.”
“As it happens, I wear this exact suit to take out the garbage every Wednesday evening.”
He might be an undead creature of the night—but as undead creatures of the night went, he was a marshmallow.
Is that a conjured banana in your pocket?
“You’d be surprised how many unassuming suburbs have vampire dungeons,”
“I can’t believe she’s still got Nanmo doing her bidding like this,” Reginald tsked, shaking his head. “The man is four hundred and seventy-five years old, for crying out loud. It’s embarrassing.”
We’re immortal, but because our hearts don’t beat, our blood doesn’t flow the way yours does. Which, in turn, means it takes an irritatingly long time for wounds to heal.”
Perhaps if I believed in myself even half as much as he believed in me, I wouldn’t need a living situation with strings attached for much longer.