Explore Quotes by Charlaine Harris

Could I tell them I was sorry their loved one was dead, when he’d tried to kill me? There was no rule of etiquette for this; even my grandmother would have been stymied.

They say when one door shuts, another one opens. But they haven’t been living at my house. Most of the doors I open seem to have something scary crouched behind them, anyway.

There’s no way you can kill someone and get to the other side of the experience unchanged.

The average woman would not be pondering how fast her date could kill her, but I’ll never be an average woman.

Jason's favorite person in the entire universe was Jason Stackhouse.

It was like being around a particularly irritating two-year-old.

I had never seen so many cute men in one place in my life. But I could tell they were not for me. Russell was like the gay vampire Hugh Hefner, and this was the Playboy Mansion, with an emphasis on the "boy.

The world seemed a bad and terrible place, all its denizens suspect, and I the lamb wandering through the valley of death with a bell around my neck.

Better to be screwed physically than financially.

Eric, what are you doing?" "Snuggling." "Get out of my bed!" -Sookie Stackhouse, Eric Northman

Sookie, what have we done? And to whom?" "I killed a chicken. And I cooked it." "Sookie, Sookie. My bullshit meter is reading that as a false." -Eric Northman, Sookie Stackhouse

I added to my mental list of the odd things I'd done that day. I'd entertained the police, sunbathed, visited at a mall with some fairies, weeded and killed someone. Now it was powdered-corpse removal time. And the day wasn't over yet.

I'd have to say no, people don't change, but they can learn to behave differently.

It was somehow degrading, craving someone so... voraciously - another good calendar word - just because he was physically beautiful. I hadn't thought that was something women did, either.

JB’s mother had taught him early on that appreciated women are happy women.

Men! Dead or alive, they could be exactly the same.

My mother finally took me to a child psychologist, who knew exactly what I was, but she just couldn’t accept it and kept trying to tell my folks I was reading their body language and was very observant, so I had good reason to imagine I heard people’s thoughts. Of course, she couldn’t admit I was literally hearing people’s thoughts because that just didn’t fit into her world.

I said the first thing that came into my head unfortunately. "Save the drama for your mama " I told her just like an eleven-year-old.

Maybe she was being so hoity-toity because she didn't have her own fairy godmother.

There's not much I dislike more than being addressed as "Hey you" and being poked with a finger.

If it's easy to be friendly she will be. If the wind blows the other way her friendship will be gone. And I'm thinking the wind is blowing the other way. She has found some other way to be an important person in her own right by hating others.