“The secret of happiness is freedom, the secret of freedom is courage.”
“He wipes his hand on his shirt.
What? Did I drool on you?"
A little."
You're a wolf. You should be used to drool."
That's low.”
“I like a lot of things that aren't good for me.”
“It's hard to save the world when you can't save yourself”
“There is no easy off button for your brain.It would be really really nice if there were.”
“Hope is a crazy thing. It will make you believe.”
“Why would I want to fit in?”
“I’m not a damsel and there is no distress”
“Pixiophobia: a fear of Pixies.
I made this up, but believe me it should be a word because it sure is a legitimate fear.”
“I start to grab it so I can it pass it to him. He reaches for it at the same time. Our fingers touch, and the moment they do the fluorescent lights overhead flicker and then fizzle out.
Everyone moans, even though we can all still see. There's enough light from outside filtering in, just not enough for us to really focus on the finer details.
Nick's fingers stroke mine lightly, so lightly that I'm almost not sure the touch is real. My insides flicker like the art room lights. They do not, however, fizzle. I turn my head to look him in the eye.
He leans over and whispers, "It will be hard to be just your friend.”
“He has an armload of irises and daisies and tulips and he presents them to me. "I didn't know what kind of flowers you like."
"I like them all."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He tries to hand them to me, but then remembers the cast. "I'll put them in water."
Betty swoops in the room ridiculously fast and she grabs the flowers out of Nick's hands. "I'll take care of them. You lovebirds just sit on the couch and think swooning things at each other.”
“If you pass out, I'll put you in my lap and wheel you across the finish line”
“There is something about libraries, old libraries, that makes them seem almost sacred. There's a smell of paper and must and binding stuff. It's like all the books are fighting against decay, against turning into dust, and at the same time fighting for attention.”
“It's a lot easier to understand things once you name them. It's the unknown that mostly freaks me out. I don't know the name of that fear, but I know I've got it, the fear of the unknown.”
“Dimples crinkle up the skin near his lips. I will not look at his lips. How can he never have used those? That’s a crime against humanity right there.”
“The only thing that scares me now is me.
The [person] I might become. The [person] I dont ever want to be.
Everybody has fears, right? But how many have my fear?
Enough, it seems. Because there's a name for it.
Autophobia.
Fear of oneself.”
“You're pouting. Pouting is not allowed. It's too cute.”
“There are people who like cute, furry things and people who eat cute, furry things
-Issy, pag. 53”
“you have to face your fear.”
“Where'd the dog go?" I ask, sounding panicky.
"That wasn't a dog, Zara," he says, words whisper strong.
I jerk my head up. "What was it then? A cat? A gerbil? A geriatric hamster?”
“... no one can ever save someone else, you know? We can only save ourselves. You know that, don't you?”
“... we all need a little bit of rescuing from time to time. It doesn't make us weak.”
“Pixies have to be invited in, like vampires. I read it on the Internet."
"Well, there you go," I mutter. "Then it must be true.”
“Issie asks, "Why iron?"
Devyn goes into full geek mode and answers before I can, "Iron is one of the last elements that is created by stellar nucleosynthesis."
I have no idea what he just said.
Neither does anone else.”
“…Sometimes there are things that people should be afraid of."
"Like the dark?"
She shook her head. "No, more the absence of light.”
“Then he smiles at me and my heart starts beating harder, which I'm ashamed to admit, but it's true. Hearts betray you like that. This is why it's perfectly acceptable to be cardiophobic, afraid of hearts.”
“That Nick is a nice boy."
I eyed her. "He doesn't like me."
"Really? Are you trying to convince yourself or me? Because I found him pressing a bandage to your head while you were passed out drooling on the couch.”
“I stare up at Nick. "You're late."
.... "I had things to take care of," he says, all growly, looking away from me and staring Ian down. They do the whole I'm alpha - No, I'm alpha thing, with the staring and pulling the shoulders back and posturing.
Devyn whispers to Issie, loud enough for us to hear. "They're so sad sometimes."
She whispers back, "I know.”
“For Persons are selves and, in one respect at least, I was now a Not-
self, simultaneously perceiving and being the Not-self of the things around me. To this new-born Not-
self, the behavior, the appearance, the very thought of the self it had momentarily ceased to be, and of
other selves, its one-time fellows, seemed not indeed distasteful (for distastefulness was not one of the
categories in terms of which I was thinking), but enormously irrelevant.”
“Fathom curled his claws around the brown sphere and brought his snout close to it, feeling quite silly indeed.”
“Some moments were golden; they were designed and orchestrated by an invisible hand, and they were meant to be more than moments. They were meant to be memories. “You’ll”
“Grandpa Byron's eyes move left and right as he chooses his words. "I tried to. But I think I left it a bit late with your dad. He preferred computers to his own imagination." He looks at me, a bit sadly, I think. "A lot of people do these days.”
“Something Rich and Strange
She was less of what she had been, the blue rubbed from her eyes, flesh freed from the chandelier of bone. He touched what once had been a hand. The river whispered to him that it would not be long now.”
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