"The sh*t's gonna splatter, start buggin, yo..." Mencheres to Cat"
"Do I feel ancient to you now?" he murmered. "Too different from the person you loved before you knew this?" Her eyes were already glowing green, and her full lips parted. "No, you don't feel too ancient." Her voice was husky. "Or too different. You feel like mine. Whoever you were, whoever you are...you're mine." Mencheres smiled, his fangs stretching to their full length. "So you have spoken, so it shall be decreed. For all eternity."
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Source: Jeaniene Frost (2010). “One Foot in the Grave: A Night Huntress Novel”, p.77, Hachette UK
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"Brush teeth. Wash hair. Rule undead world with an iron fist."
"It was ironic; he held her captive, yet she’d captivated him."
"You're shagging a woman who can turn into a dragon? Blast you, Charles, I am sick with envy!"
"I am a nice young girl here to pick up your granddaughter for the weekend... We're going to a Bible retreat to scare the devil out of her. - Bones to Cat's grandparents"
"You're not a woman," he said finally. "You're the Grim Reaper with red hair!"