“What you do, the way you think, makes you beautiful.”
“Perhaps the logical conclusion of everyone looking the same is everyone thinking the same.”
“When she awoke, the world was on fire.”
“You're insane!" she shouted.
"Pretty cool, huh?"
"No!"Tally yelled. "Why didn't you tell me it was broken?"
Shay shrugged. "More fun that way?"
"More fun?" Her heart beating fast,her vision strangely clear. She was full of anger and relief and...joy.
"Well, kind of. But you suck!”
“Shay sometimes talked in a mysterious way, like she was quoting the lyrics of some band no one else listened to.”
“We're not freaks, Tally. We're normal. We may not be gorgeous, but at least we're not hyped-up Barbie dolls.”
“Tally smiled. At least she was causing trouble to the end. "I'm Tally Youngblood," she said. "make me pretty.”
“The early summer sky was the color of cat vomit.”
“Maybe they didn't want you to realize that every civilization has its weakness. There's always one thing we depend on. And if someone takes it away all that's left is some story in a history class.”
“Her only way home was to betray her friend.”
“Your personality - the real you inside - was the price of beauty.”
“I spilled more times than a glass of milk on a roller coaster.”
“Your father always suspected that being pretty-minded is simply the natural state for most people. They want to be vapid and lazy and vain—Maddy glanced at Tally—and selfish. It only takes a twist to lock in that part of their personalities. He always thought that some people could think their way out of it.”
“It's not the traveling that takes courage Tally. I've done much longer trips on my own. It's leaving home.”
“In a world of extreme beauty, anyone normal is ugly.”
“The flowers were so beautiful, so delicate and unthreatening, but they choked everything around them.”
“That's how things were out here in the wild, she was learning. Dangerous or beautiful. Or both.”
“Yes. What you do, the way you think, makes you beautiful.”
“The very idea of making shoes by hand boggled her mind.”
“Now,young lady,I suppose you're here for a work assignment."
Work?" Tally said.
They both looked down at her puzzled expression, and Shay burst into laughter.”
“Out here, you find out that the city fools you about how things really work.”
“Tally sighed, tipping her feet again to follow. "Maybe that's because they have better stuff to do than kid tricks. Maybe partying in town is better than hanging out in a bunch of old ruins."
Shay's eyes flashed. "Or maybe when they do the operation-when they grind and stretch your bones to the right shape, peel off your face and rub all your skin away, and stick in plastic cheekbones so you look like everyone else-maybe after going through all that you just aren't very interesting anymore.”
“...I want those perfect eyes and lips, and for everyone to look at me and gasp. And for everyone who sees me to think Who's that? and want to get to know me, and listen to what I say."
"I'd rather have something to say.”
“The lie took form as she spoke, pulling on as many strands of truth as it could reach.”
“Doing what you're supposed to do is always boring. I can't imagine anything worse than being required to have fun.”
“Didn't this beat everything? A pretty and an ugly taking a stroll together. The warden came closer, confusion all over his middle-pretty face.
Tally smiled. At least she was causing trouble to the end.
"I'm Tally Youngblood," she said. "Make me pretty.”
“But you weren't born expecting that kind of beauty in everyone, all the time. You just got programmed into thinking anything else is ugly.”
“The early summer sky was the color of cat vomit. Of course, Tally thought, you’d have to feed your cat only salmon-flavored cat food for a while, to get the pinks right.”
“She thought of the orchids spreading across the plains below, choking the life out of other plants, out of the soil itself, selfish and unstoppable. Tally Youngblood was a weed. And, unlike the orchids, she wasn't even a pretty one.”
“However stupid the choice seemed, Shay had made it with her eyes open, and had respected Tally's choice to stay.”
“Wie oft gab es eine letzte Minute?
Verbrauchte Brennstäbe, die zu großen heißen Stapeln aufgeschichtet wurden. Sie meinen, der Fluch des Tutenchamun wäre schlimm gewesen? Mann! Warten Sie ab, bis ein Archäologe des funfundzwanzigsten Jahrhunderts diese Scheiße ausgräbt!”
“Miten ihmeessä minä löysin sinut?"
"Sinä voitit minut. Elämän suurissa arpajaisissa sinä sait minut. Ja minä sinut. Luuletko että aviokumppanukset ansaitsevat toisensa? Kun ajattelee kaikkia niitä joita näen töissä ja jotka eivät onnistu siinä. Ehkä he eivät vain yritä, ehkä he vain unohtavat."
Sen mitä minäkin olin unohtaa. "'Hyvinä ja pahoina päivinä aina kuolemaan asti.' Muistatko? Minäkin annoin sen lupauksen.”
“and that it would come here too. Paul”
“They come to understand, with awe, the complexity of the compound identity that existed on the Earth. They conclude with a shudder that the Earthly you is utterly lost, unpreserved in the afterlife. You were all these ages, and you were none.”
“El sueño tiene su propia cadencia, su propia melodía, como la muerte. A veces es silenciosa, a veces se eleva en una hermosa armonía, que no se recuerda muy bien cuando uno está huyendo de ella.
-de Lengua de Oro: Los Poemas de Steven Slaughter.”
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