Maybe probably ain’t all that comforting a word when it’s maybe yer not dying.
Francia don’t look too convinced. I never seen arms so crossed.
It was solitude, but it was solitude that wasn’t lonely. Solitude that could sort things out. And he hadn’t had that in ages.
We have to lie to ourselves to live. Otherwise, we’d go crazy.
You said we all want there to be more than this! Well, there’s always more than this. There’s always something you don’t know.
Stories don’t end with the writers, however many started the race.
How do you know yer alive if you don’t hurt?
Faith with proof is no faith at all.
It’s not how we fall. It’s how we get back up again.
Do we hate paradise so much we need to make sure it becomes a trash heap?
It’s not the mistakes I made but how I responded to them.
Do you not wonder sometimes, she showed now, sadly, if in some ways they are correct? That we are asking too much of the world?“No,” he said. “They’re the ones who are asking for too little.”
Sometimes witches merit saving. Quite often, actually. You’d be surprised.
But a knife ain’t just a thing, is it? It’s a choice, it’s something you do. A knife says yes or no, cut or not, die or don’t. A knife takes a decision out of your hand and puts it in the world and it never goes back again.
Guessing a thing ain’t knowing a thing.
It is a true story, the monster said. Many things that are true feel like a cheat.
Teenagers are the greatest readers in the world – honest, unsnobby and loyal.
Know yourself and go in swinging, if it hurts when you hit, it might be real, too.
Midnight passes and I’m twenty-five days and a million years from becoming a man.
Except I didn’t say eff.