God, no. I don’t want to tame her, I want to watch her. I just want to watch her be herself – it turns me on like nothing else.

— Dianna Hardy

God,” she butted her head into his chest, “I'm so angry with myself.”“What? Why?”“Because … this is my mess I dragged you into, and you don't deserve any of it, and I feel like I'm ruining you with every single thing I say, and…” she lifted her head, eyes shimmering, “I'm a selfish, selfish bitch. Because all I can think about, is whether I'll regret it in three hours, when we walk out of here, and I never know, not even once, what it's like to be with a really nice guy.

— Dianna Hardy

Grief came in waves, sometimes big, sometimes small, but even on the calmest days, the grief remained. The tide still came ashore.

— Dianna Hardy

Half naked, he drank her in with his eyes, imprinting this moment into his mind. This, he would take to his death – the woman that stirred him to life.

— Dianna Hardy

He could have watched her all night. He could watch her for an eternity and still never be able to capture the essence of what it is that makes ‘love’.

— Dianna Hardy

He pulled out a dagger from ... she wasn't sure where. Did he have that in his loin cloth? What else does he have in there? (Amy's thoughts, The Witching Pen)

— Dianna Hardy

He thought he’d lived through everything. Only now did he realize he’d merely existed.

— Dianna Hardy

He took the pen and book from her and faltered.“Just write anything – anything trivial that won't matter if it comes to pass.”“ERM...” God, he was useless at this. Elena's hair turned blue.“Hey!”“What?”“I don't want blue hair! What the hell did you write that for?”“It seemed trivial.”“Blue hair – blue? That's trivial? What if I can't undo it?” Karl stared at her blankly. His throat went dry. He felt like a total dickhead, but writing really wasn't his strong point, so he went for humor instead and flashed her a grin.“I was going to write that all your clothes fall off, but figured you may have a problem with that. This was the second thing that came to mind.”(Karl and Elena)

— Dianna Hardy

Hope – or perhaps delusion – was a flame that had stayed lit, even though its scorching light would hurt. It had refused to go out.

— Dianna Hardy

How can you lose me? You’ve owned me from the first moment I saw you.

— Dianna Hardy