Now, Max, I think we both know your parents aren't missionaries."I opened my eyes wide. "No? Well, for God's sake, don't tell them. They'd be crushed. Thinking they're doing the Lord's work and all.

Hello, Max," he said quietly, searching my face. "How do you feel?"Which was a ten on the "imbecilic question" scale of one to ten. Why, I feel fine, Jeb," I said brightly. "How about you?"Any nausea? Headache?" Yep. And it's standing here talking to me.

People want us, or want us dead, because of what we are, not who we are. It's hard.

People want us, or want us dead, because of what we are, not who we are. It's hard.~Angel

Oh no! Don't drag us away from Antartica and take us to the playground of the rich and famous! Not that briar patch! -Max

Excellent. They were flammable.

Angel screeched with fury and despair to the empty walls around her. "I'm human, do you hear me? It hurts!