Having a brain hurt so much sometimes.
The early summer sky was the color of cat vomit.
What happens when perfection isn’t good enough?
Maybe they didn’t want you to realize that every civilization has its weakness. There’s always one thing we depend on. And if someone takes it away all that’s left is some story in a history class.
Maybe this was how you stayed sane in wartime: a handful of noble deeds amid the chaos.
Her only way home was to betray her friend.
Your personality – the real you inside – was the price of beauty.
Never give us what we really want. Cut the dream into pieces and scatter them like ashes. Dole out the empty promises. Package our aspirations and sell them to us, cheaply made enough to fall apart.
It’s amazing how quickly nature consumes human places after we turn our backs on them. Life is a hungry thing.
Their reasons don’t mean anything unless I have a choice.
Barking spiders!
Sometimes, the hardest thing was doing nothing.
Never bored on a hoverboard.
That Shay was in possesion of hand grenades was a comforting thought showed what kind of night this had become.
It didn’t matter what you looked like. It was how you carried yourself, how you saw yourself.
Left alone, human beings are a plague. They multiply relentlessly, consuming every resource, destroying everything they touch.
At least one thing was consistent about her life: It just kept on getting more complicated.
And a special thanks for not burning up the whole ship. Including yourself, you daft bum-rag.
Let others wage war. You, lucky Austria, shall marry.
Listen, you bubblehead-up-until-five-minutes-ago...