He'd surely been spawned by some cataclysmic event of nature, not born.

He wasn't just masculine and sexual, he was carnal in a set-your-teeth-on-edge kind of way; he was almost frightning.

He just didn't look like the kind of creep that would messily murder a woman in her hotel room; he looked like the kind of creep that could line her up in the sights of an assassins rifle without a shred of emotion.

Nuns? They'd take one look at Barrons and decide the devil himself had come knockng. He not only looked dangerous, he emanated something that made even me feel like crossing myself sometimes, and I'm not religious.

You've mistaken me for someone else. Do not wait on me, Ms. Lane. Do not construct your world around mine. I'm not that man.""Screw you, Barrons.""I'm not that man, either.

Are we, like, having a conversation?""Did you just, like, ask me for advice and listen with an open mind? If so, then yes, I would call this a conversation

I don't believe Barrons is out to destroy mankind. I don't think he particularly cares much for mankind, but I don't think he has any deep-seated desire to see us all wiped out.

There are three floors beneath the garage? Why on earth?"-Mac

Being threatened seems to being out the worst in me.