The world is only as fair as you can make it. Takes a lot of fight. A lot of fight. But if you stay in here, in your little cave, that’s one less fighter on the side of fair.
Any book that can help you survive the slings and arrows of adolescence is a book to love for life; ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ did just that, and I still do love it.
Prohibition? I drink to its health whenever I can.
Everyone’s dying. A little, every day. Make it count.
Things aren’t good or bad in and of themselves. It’s what we do with them that makes them so.
One could argue that it’s romantic to die for love. Of course, then you’re dead and unable to take that honeymoon trip to the Alps with all the other fashionable young couples, which is a shame.
There is never any turning back Gemma. You have to go forward. Make the future yours.
Feast for the Fisherman, the ultimate emo band. Said to be sold with a complimentary prescription for antidepressants and a free flatiron.
HI. I’m from Arkansas, the cantaloupe state. And tonight, I hope you will hold my melons close to your heart and vote me your Miss Teen Dream.
We don’t look at each other anymore. Not really. Not since I pulled him from that opium den. Now when I look at him, I see the addict. And when he looks at me, he sees what he would rather not remember. I wish I could be his adored little girl again, sitting at his side.
But what was the point of living so quietly you made no noise at all?
I’m a librarian, not an oracle.
People always fear what they don’t understand, Evangeline. History proves that.
Just once, she’d like to be the exciting one, the girl somebody wanted.
She wished she were as inconsequential as the ghosts in her dreams.
Brought to you by The Corporation: In your homes and in your pants.
Please, I’m a transgender former boy-bander. You think I don’t know how to defend myself?
People will believe anything if it means they can go on with their lives and not have to think too hard about it.
Jericho lay back down on his side, watching her breathe just an arm’s length from him. She was not beautiful while she slept; her mouth hung open and she snored very lightly, and this, despite everything that had happened, made him smile.
I hate high heels. Walking in high heels for eight hours a day should be forbidden by the Geneva Convention.