I don’t understand hate. I’ve seen its power. I’ve known its wrath. I’ve even felt it coursing through my veins, pushing me on. But I don’t know where it comes from or why it lasts, how it can take hold in some people and grow.

Listen to me." He grabbed my arms, holding me there. " I couldn't find you. And I will never forgive myself for that. Ever.

If he'd looked like a cross between Mr. Clooney and, say, one of the hobbits, I probably would have been far more capable of coherent thought.

Lies," Mr Solomon said the next morning as he walked into the classroom. "We tell them to our friends," he said. "We tell them to our enemies. And eventually...we tell them to ourselves.

The things that are most precious to us are sometimes the most secret.

Not knowing you can't do something, is sometimes all it takes to do it.

You should have had the decency to die when you needed to." “Sorry,” I admitted. “I’ve been going through a bit of a rebellious streak. I swear it’s almost over.