I don’t know, Sage. You threw yourself in the line of pepper spray for me. You must like me just a little bit.” “I— I figured it’d be a shame to ruin your pretty face,” I stammered.
I know I’m not supposed to say this, but I love you.
But each time you use spirit, you're more likely to go crazy.” “Already crazy about you, Sage.
Speaking of Sonya...I was thinking of something earlier. Something Wolfe said." "Why, Adrian. Were you paying attention after all?" "Don't start,Sage," he warned.(p 211)
Did you just use juxtaposition in a sentence?" "Yes, Sage" he said patiently. "We use it all the time with art, ... That, and I know how to use a dictionary
Sage?" Adrian lightly touched my arm, and I jumped at the feel of his fingertips against my skin. "You okay?" "I don't know," I said softly. "I just thought of something crazy." "Welcome to my world.
Nice blouse, Sage,” Adrian told me, deadpan. “It really brings out the khaki in your pants.
Note even Moroi give licenses to infants, Sage,
Isn’t it obvious, Sage? No, of course it isn’t. I did it so I’d have a reason to be around you — one I knew you couldn’t refuse.
Sage," he said. "What are you wearing?" I sighed and stared down at the dress. "I know. It's red. Don't start. I'm tired of hearing about it." "Funny," he said. "I don't think I could ever get tired of looking at it.
Sorry, Sage. Last I checked, you aren’t an expert in social matters..." "At least I take action. You? You let the world go by without you. You have no spine. You don’t fight back." “You don’t know the first thing about me, Adrian Ivashkov. I fight back plenty.
You’re killing me here, Sage!” “I’m not doing anything.” “Exactly my point.
Sage,” Adrian declared. “These hands don’t do manual labor.
..Sage is convinced one extraneous calorie will make her go from super skinny to just regular skinny. Tragedy.
If someone had asked who could stage the best intervention with a crazy woman who had formerly been an undead monster, Sydney Sage would have been my last guess.
Sage.” He laughed. “I’m into anything, so long as you’re with me.
His eyes, I’d long since discovered, could be as eloquent and expressive as his pen. The messages they sent me now hardly seemed decent for a public setting.
Who knows more about male weakness: you or me? Use my knowledge, Sage.
As he looked at me, he seemed to send a message of his own: that he would still fight for me, that he would fight until he collapsed to keep them from taking me.