“i felt her absence. it was like waking up one day with no teeth in your mouth. you wouldn't need to run to the mirror to know they were gone”
“Rose took my nose, I suppose”
“Yeah, right," Minho said. "And Frypan's gonna start having little babies, Winston'll get rid of his monster acne, and Thomas here'll actually smile for once."
Thomas turned to Minho and exaggerated a fake smile. "There, you happy?"
"Dude," he responded. "You are one ugly shank.”
“The betrayal meant he couldn't trust her anymore, and his heart told him he couldn't forgive her.”
“No. I kind of accepted it, in a way. That saving you was worth losing what we might've had.”
“Anybody else wanna pee their pants and cry for mommy?”
“What's going on?" Newt asked, looking back and forth between Thomas and Aris. "Why're you guys looking at each other like you just fell in love?”
“I was just kidding, shuck-face," Minho said. "Let's all go over there. She could have an army of psycho girl ninjas hiding in that shack of hers."
"Psycho girl ninjas?" Newt repeated, his voice showing he was surprised, if not annoyed, by Minho's additude.”
“He turned to look just in time to see the rain start falling out as if the storm had finally decided to weep with shame for what it had done to them.”
“He whipped out his sheet, then pulled it over himself and wrapped it tightly around his face like an old woman in a shawl.
'How do I look?'
'Like the ugliest shanky girl I’ve ever seen,' Minho responded. 'You better thank the gods above you were born a dude.'
'Thanks.”
“They called you the Glue"
"The Glue?"
"Yeah. Probably because you're kind of the glue that holds us all together”
“Didn't know you could measure distance so well with nothing but you bloody eyeballs”
“Hunger.
It's like an animal trapped inside you, Thomas thought.”
“Too bad we don't have a flashlight."
"Thanks for stating the obvious, Mr. Thomas," Minho replied.”
“He didn't care about the others anymore. The chaos around him seemed to siphon away his humanity, turn him into an animal. All he wanted was to survive, make it to that building, get inside. Live. Gain another day.”
“Can you do that?” Thomas asked.
“Huh?”
“Kill someone three times.”
“I’d figure out a way.”
“Sometimes I wonder," Thomas murmured.
"Wonder what?"
"If being alive matters. If being dead might be a lot easier.”
“Shuck it,” Minho responded. “I’m tougher than nails. I could still kick your pony-lovin’ butt with twice this pain.”
Thomas shrugged. “I do love ponies. Wish I could eat one right now.”
“Rose took my nose, I suppose,” he repeated; the bubble of phlegm in his throat made a disgusting crackle. “And it really blows.”
“When someone is close by, you just know it.”
“...You'd think the little part about them supposedly killing us would be the attention getter.”
“And then they were kissing. Something exploded within his chest burning away the tension and confusion and fear. Burning away the hurt of seconds earlier. For a moment it felt like nothing mattered anymore. Like nothing would matter ever again.”
“False hope," she said. "Guess that's better then no hope at all.”
“Thomas jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows.
"You met our new friend?" Miho responded, a smirk flashing across his face. "Real piece of work, this guy. I gotta get me one of those shuck suits. Fancy stuff."
"Am I awake?" Thomas asked.
"You're awake. Now eat—you look horrible. Almost as bad as Rat Man over there, reading his book.”
“I'm a Crank. I'm slowly going crazy. I keep wanting to chew off my own fingers and randomly kill people.”
“I think we should take a break, fill our little tummies and drink up.”
“The girl leaned forward and kissed Thomas on the cheek. “You’re sweet. I really hope we don’t end up killing you, at least.”
“You’re so sweet,' Frypan said with a snort. 'Go ahead and die with Thomas. I think I’ll sneak away and enjoy living with the guilt.”
“Movement from Brenda grabbed Thomas's attention. He looked to see her drop the knife away from Minho and step back, absently wiping the small trace of blood there on her pants. "I really would've killed you, ya know," she said in a slightly scratchy voice. Almost husky. "Charge Jorge again and I'll sever an artery."
Minho wiped at his small wound with his thumb, then looked at the bright red smear. "That's one sharp knife. Makes me like you more.”
“You look”—amazing, incredible, eminently kissable—“fine,” I finished weakly.”
“There are five unavoidable givens, five immutable facts that come to visit all of us many times over: Everything changes and ends. Things do not always go according to plan. Life is not always fair. Pain is part of life. People are not loving and loyal all the time. These are the core challenges that we all face. But too often we live in denial of these facts. We behave as if somehow these givens aren’t always in effect, or not applicable to all of us. But when we oppose these five basic truths we resist reality, and life then becomes an endless series of disappointments, frustrations, and sorrows. In”
“Could I see that God wanted to transform my life from a somewhat ugly, useless branch to an arrow, a tool usable in His hands, for the furtherance of His purposes?....To be thus transformed, was I willing - am I till willing - for the whittling, sandpapering, stripping, processes necessary in my Christian life? The ruthless pulling off of leaves and flowers might include doing without a television set or washing machine, remaining single in order to see a job done, re-evaluating the worthiness of the ambition to be a "good" doctor (according to my terms an values). The snapping of thorns might include drastic dealing with hidden jealousies and unknown prides, giving up prized rights in leadership and administration. The final stripping of the bark might include lessons to be learned regarding death to self - self-defence,self-pity, self-justification, self-vinidication, self-sufficiency, all the mechanisms of preventing the hurt of too deep involvment. Am I prepared for the pain, which may at times seem like sacrifice, in order to be made a tool in His service? My willingness will be a measure of the sincerity of my desire to express my heartfelt gratitude to Him for his so-great salvation. Can I see such minor "sacrifices" in light of the great sacrifice of Calvary, where Christ gave all for me?”
“One day a man of the people said to Zen Master Ikkyu: “Master, will you please write for me some maxims of the highest wisdom?” Ikkyu immediately took his brush and wrote the word “Attention.” “Is that all?” asked the man. “Will you not add something more?” Ikkyu then wrote twice running: “Attention. Attention.” “Well,” remarked the man rather irritably, “I really don’t see much depth or subtlety in what you have just written.” Then Ikkyu wrote the same word three times running: “Attention. Attention. Attention.” Half angered, the man demanded: “What does that word ‘Attention’ mean anyway?” And Ikkyu answered gently: “Attention means attention.”11”
“I don't know yet what we're called, or if we have
a name. I know so little and need to learn so much. I'm many things, detective, and all of them love you.”
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