I’m Lila, and yes, he’s crazy. But you must have noticed that before now. He was crazy back when I knew him, and he’s obviously gotten crazier over time.
He looks like the good boy he’s never been.
I know how to be the witness to her grief. I don’t know how to be this kind of villain.
Telling Sam and Daneca feels like peeling off my own skin to expose everything underneath. It hurts.
Don’t be drinking the Haterade.
Marks forget that whenever something’s too good to be true, that’s because it’s a con.
Life is like licking Honey from a Thorn.
It’s sweet. All this trouble for a kitty.
My head is pounding. I wish the mints were aspirin.
I have no memory of climbing the stairs up to the roof. I don’t even know how to get where I am, which is a problem since I’m going to have to get down, ideally in a way that doesn’t involve dying.
I envy what I fear and hate what I envy.
Carney is like a graveyard where everyone already owns their plots and has built houses on top of them.
Yesterday when we went over the plan again and again, I never thought about Grandad showing up. Because I’m an idiot, basically – an idiot with poor planning skills. Of course he’s here. Where else would he be? Seriously, what else could go wrong?
I drive him to school, then I break back into Barron’s house. I’m the best kind of thief, the kind that leaves behind items equal in value to those he’s stolen. Then I go home and shave until my skin is as slick as any slickster’s.
The row of dolls watched her impassively from the bookshelf, their tea party propriety almost certainly offended.
Let me look out for you. Let your enemies become mine.
The first boy I fell in love with didn’t know I loved him, but he managed to break my heart anyway.
She can’t help it. She loves the con. I tell myself I’m not like her, but I have to admit I love it too.
Poisonous jealousy thrummed through my veins.
For me the curse is a crutch, but the con is everything.