“I’m used to holding on to nothing as tight as I can.”
“I’d break every rule for you.”
“You cannot thrive under the wrong stars, Kricket… the stars here are in opposition to you… can’t you feel it?… Let us take you home.”
“I told him that when we first met... I felt like a butterfly trapped in a net. But... I told him that the more time I spent with him, the more I began to realize how much he means to me I told him that since it seems to be my destiny to dodge raindrops... I was grateful to be dodging them with him. So, I promised him that it would always be his name on my mind when I start my rotation... and when I go to bed each evening... and every quiet moment in between. It will be his name... savored on my lips... stretched across my heart... worshipped by my body... and branded in my mind... until death do us part... and forever after that.”
“She's in your head, Trey."
"My head, my heart, my blood," Trey responds immediately.”
“I’m just saying that when there is little left to lose, the consequences of one’s actions don’t carry the same weight…painful or otherwise.”
“We have to make the stars align for us now-- find a way for us now to get burned for being together." - Trey to Kricket”
“I can't figure out what's wrong with her feet! -Nothing's wrong with my feet! -They are an alluring shade of pink. -Jax, that's nail polish!”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’m used to holding on to nothing as tight as I can.”
“But…I told him that the more time that I spent with him, the more I began to realize how much he means to me. I told him that since it seems to be my destiny to dodge raindrops…I was grateful to be dodging them with him. So, I promised him that it would always be his name on my mind when I start my rotation…and when I go to bed each evening…and every quiet moment in between. It will be his name…savored on my lips…stretched across my heart…worshipped by my body…and branded in my mind…until death do us part…and forever after that.”
“If I touch her, she’ll have my soul,” Trey replies.”
“I should love her like there is an ache that won't go away unless I'm with her.”
“He was telling us that your voice will give comfort when the night becomes its blackest,” he replies. “And I’ll protect that voice with my body, my mind, and my spirit . . . because without it, I’m alone in the dark.”
“Trey, I thought that the Znou was beautiful and I wanted to keep it,” I say, explaining myself to him. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself. If I get suicidal, you’ll know ’cuz I’ll be dead. The only thing I’m feeling right now is homicidal, so watch your back.”
“It’s when the crickets stop singing that you know the enemy is near and the battle is about to begin.”
“Then I could just let the common symmetry that exists between us force you to see that you’re mine . . .”—I kiss him—“and I’m lost without you . . .”
“I prefer my justice to be blind.”
“Wayra, it's very nice to meet you. -Get off! -What's wrong? -He touched me. -So? -So, he's going to get hurt if he does it again!”
“No,” Trey says. “Males rarely touch each other.” “Really?” “And females rarely touch males they don’t know or who aren’t a part of their family,” he adds, making me feel awkward all of a sudden. I’ve been holding his hand all day, I think, feeling stupid.”
“I wouldn’t describe it like that. It was . . . hazardous and delicate. I’ve had easier times disarming explosives . . .”
“Pulling his hand back from my face, Trey tenses. “Inamorata is feminine. I would be your inamorato, your male lover.”
“Cuz I look like Barbie.” I reply, knowing they can connect the dots. “Bad girls don’t like Barbie?” Michael asks, both his eyebrows rising. “No. Bad girls want to rip Barbie’s head off and flush it down the toilet,”
“It looks great on her because she has a bangin’ body.”
“Drunken people make me nervous. I dislike their predictable unpredictability—the emotions that are so intense and seem to turn on a dime.”
“Can't someone please tell me what that little, lacy thing is that I keep catching a glimpse of when she bends down?" Wayra asks. "I don't know, but I have to say that I like it more than I should." Jax replies, sounding amused.”
“I’m just saying that when there is little left to lose, the consequences of one’s actions don’t carry the same weight—painful or otherwise.”
“My lips twitch at the mental image of him as a “queen.”
“At last you get in – but you hear a step:
The ogre, Life, comes into the room,
(He was waiting and heard the clang of the spring)
To watch you nibble the wondrous cheese,
And stare with his burning eyes at you,
And scowl and laugh, and mock and curse you,
Running up and down in the trap,
Until your misery bores him.”
“You don't love me, Sebastian. You don't have any idea what love really is. You can't love anyone or anything until you love your own existence, first. Love can only grow out of a respect for your own life. When you love yourself, your own existence, then you love someone who can enhance your existence, share it with you, and make it more pleasurable. When you hate yourself and believe your existence is evil, then you can only hate, you can only experience the shell of love, that longing for something good, but you have nothing to base it in but hatred. You taint the very concept of love, Sebastian, with your corrupted longing for it. You want me only to justify your hatred, to be your partner in self-loathing.”
“She thought about how it was to have been a woman in the prime of life, with children and a man, and then to lose all that, becoming old and a widow, powerless. But even so she did not feel she understood his shame, his agony of humiliation. Perhaps only a man could feel so. A woman got used to shame.”
“That didn’t reassure me much; Alphonse’s idea of good manners consisted of remembering to bury all the bodies.”
“He watched Attolia out of the corner of his eye. She was still cool, like a breath of winter in the warm evening air, but in the last few days he had begun to sense a subtle humor in her chilly words. When Gen had complained earlier that evening that Petrus, the palace physician, should stop fussing over him like a worried old woman, Attolia had asked, archly,"And me as well?"
"When you stop fussing," Gen had said, slipping to his knees beside her couch, "I will sleep with two knives under my pillow."
Allolia had looked down at him and said sharply, "Don't be ridiculous."
Only when Eugenides laughed had Sounis realized her implication: If she ever turned against Eugenides, a second knife wouldn't save him. He almost swallowed the olive in his mouth unchewed.”
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