We’ve got about as much chance of communing with the dead as we do of sitting in Parliament.
Mabel did deserve to Rest In Peace, and Evie knew she was a terrible person, because of there was any ghost she longed to see, even for just a moment, it was Mabel’s.
If I have to look through one more of these, I’m throwing myself off that balcony,” he moaned. “Let me know if you need help,” Jericho said.
It was a machine that required constant feeding- Henry hated the machine, and he hated himself for wanting the sort of admiration it promised, as if he had no worth unless someone was there to applaud it.
Grinning, he grabbed his fisherman’s cap and coat. “I love you,” he whispered quietly. “Ikh hob dikh lib.” He kissed Evie’s head. She rustled in her sleep, turning away. “Fine. I see how it is. I just wasted my best Yiddish on you,” Sam joked to himself.
It was a thread woven through all of humankind: this need for story to explain the unexplainable, to comfort the hurting, to promise that no one was alone. Evie’s uncle Will had said there was no greater power on earth than story. And in this shared moment, Memphis knew that it was so.
See, the trouble with Nietzsche, besides his being a real killjoy, is that he thinks like a spoiled seven-year-old who doesn’t want to share his sandbox toys – ” “Sam!
Sam. Don’t make me kill you on a full stomach. I might get a cramp.
They wish, too, that they could warn them about the gray man in the stovepipe hat, about the King of Crows. For not all ghosts remember, and the citizens have need of warning.
If you would understand the present, you must come to know the past.
Nicole hated that she could never quite feel like she was just herself, just Nicole, but that she was somehow representing an entire race. That’s how they saw her, as a “they” and not a “she.
Didn’t they teach you how to go about research in that school of yours?” “No. But I can recite ‘The Battle Hymn of the Republic’ while making martinis.” “I weep for the future.” “There’s where the martinis come in.
Besides, things you loved deeply could be lost in a second, and then there was no filling the hole left inside you.
Why do girls always feel like they have to apologize for giving an opinion or taking up space in the world?
Soon I will take all you love and watch you burn. Sweet dreams, Object Reader.
There’s a Douglas Fairbanks picture at the Strand. A swashbuckler. You love those.” Evie closed one eye. “You’re telling me not to lose hope because there are pirate pictures?” “I’m trying here, Baby Vamp. When you’re facing evil, a good pirate picture doesn’t hurt.
Every city is a ghost. New buildings rise upon the bones of the old so that each shiny steel beam, each tower of brick carries within it the memories of what has gone before, an architectural haunting.
Little clue: wasted on me.” “What?” “I’m into girls.” “Oh. Oh!” Chu said. “Right. Got it. That’s cool. I’ve got a cousin who’s gay. Amy Liu. Know her?” Jennifer laughed. “Oh, sure. I’ll just look her up in the Big Book of Lesbians. We get a copy of that with the purchase of our first flannel shirt.
Sinjin was sitting bare-chested with Petra’s blue feather boa wrapped around his neck and draped over his shoulder. His long dark curls had been teased and sprayed into a sexy mane. Heavy black eyeliner rimmed his eyes. “Am I not gorgeous? I want to snog myself. I’m like a postmodern Lord Byron.” “You put the ironic in Byronic,” Petra quipped. “Well said, luv.
The world is full of dead optimists.