No. But I remember thinking... that he made me feel safe” She rubbed her head back against the painted cinder blocks. “I remembered thinking that me and Abel would never be like Dad and Mom, that if Abel got tired of me, I’d survive it.
Will you read this? I think maybe it sucks. Or maybe it’s awesome. It’s probably awesome. Tell me it’s awesome, okay? Unless it sucks.” – Nick.
He’s just a guy,” Reagan said. “Of course he’s different from you. You’re never going to find a guy who’s exactly like you – first of all, because that guy never leaves his dorm room...
Hay otras persona en Internet. Es impresionante. Obtienes todos los beneficios de “otras personas” sin el color corporal y el contacto visial.
Tomorrow, we’re gathering rosebuds.
Mags nodded, and pushed with her shoulders away from the house, then Noel pushed her right back – pinning her as much as he was hugging her as much as he was crowding her against the wall.
Because we match.
Enough about me and my tapeworm. How are you?
Just because I knew I was going to die like this doesn’t mean I’m ready for it. I wish I’d been nicer to my mum this morning. I wish I were wearing something other than leggings and Ugg boots. I always figured I’d make a more beautiful corpse.
Everything is a story and you are the hero.
Only you,” he’d promised. “Only you ever.
He sat back in the seat and looked over at her. “I wish you’d go away,” he whispered, “so that we could finally talk.
Aleister Crowley, I’m living a charmed life.
But there’s nothing more profound than creating something out of nothing. That’s what makes a god – or a mother. There’s nothing more intoxicating than creating something from nothing. Creating something from yourself.
Every eighth-year student is tasked with creating a new spell by the end of the year – with finding a new twist in the language that’s gained power or an old one that’s been overlooked, and then figuring out how to apply it.
You can’t hide from someone who’s kissing you, even if you close your eyes.
And sometimes when he casts metaphors, they go viciously literal. Like when he cast Hair of the dog on Agatha during sixth year to help her get over a hangover, and instead covered her with dog hair.
You’d rather be broken than move on.′ That did it. Now they were both crying, both shouting. Nobody wins until nobody wins, Cath thought.
Is he racist?” I ask. “Isn’t he a race? His mum looks sort of Spanish or Arabic in her painting.” “Arabic is a language, Simon. And everyone is a race. And Baz is the whitest person I’ve ever seen.” “Only because he’s a vampire,” I said.
Cath still wasn’t sure whether Nick was actually hot or whether he just projected hotness. Specifically in her direction.