Acting like you don’t care is a whole lot easier when you don’t care

It was the first time in years I didn’t wonder if my father was out there, looking at it too.

Hello, ladies," Joe Solomon said, but not before I snatched the piece of paper and crammed it in my mouth, which ordinarily would have been really great spy maneuvering except that Josh didn't use Evapopaper. "How's the lasagna?" Mr. Solomon asked, and I started to say something before I remembered that my mouth was...well...otherwise engaged.

Do you know what pain is, Cammie? It’s the body’s physical response to imminent harm. It is the mind’s way of telling us to move our hand off the stove or let go of the broken glass.

The Subject has really blue eyes that twinkle when he looks at someone like she's maybe a little bit insane.

It was so rare to find someone who was both so young and so wise, both so fresh and so jaded.

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.