“All I can think is how horrible and beautiful it is, that our eyes blur the truth when we can't bear to see it.”
“She's trying so hard to be okay --- to make it all this shit okay --- but sometimes it's like the world just won't let her. The hits keep coming, and she keeps hurting.”
“Okay then. Let’s go get our girl back." "My girl," I correct him. "She’s my girl." Kenji snorts as we head in the direction of the compounds. "Right. Minus the part where she’s not actually your girl. Not anymore." "Shut up." "Uh-huh." "Whatever.”
“You want to keep your little brother alive? Make sure you don't kill yourself while you're trying to save him.”
“The tension is so thick it's practically its own person, taking up a seat we don't have to spare.”
“Every day we feel further apart. And sometimes I think the harder I try to hold on, the more she tries to break away.”
“He’s such a social guy—and so popular around here—that sometimes I wonder where he got it from. In many ways he’s the exact opposite of me. He likes to let a lot of people in; I like to keep most people out.”
“That’s when I understand. Of course she’s not okay. Of course she didn’t get any sleep last night. Last night she almost killed one of her closest friends. She’d just started trusting herself and not being afraid of herself; now she’s back to where she started. Shit. I’m already sorry I even brought it up.”
“He likes to let a lot of people in; I like to keep most people out.”
“His thoughts inhabit a different plane from those of ordinary men; the simplest interpretation of that is to call him crazy.”
“I have loved this disaster of a library since I was old enough to read.”
“Robert, I’m sorry that you feel so strange, but I’m not sorry that you’re feeling it because of me,” I whispered, my heart feeling a familiar twinge as I continued, “but even if you hadn’t felt it, it would not change the way I feel about you.”
“You’ll make a sucky father someday,” I tell him with a smile. “I feel sorry for the kid that doesn’t get to burst into light to get out of your house.”
He chokes out a laugh. “Is it my sarcasm?”
“Definitely. And that obnoxious accent.”
“But no one was prouder of me or happier for me than Branwell, and I think he would not have been prouder or happier if he had won himself. And I don't know anyone anywhere who has a friend like that.”
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