But you're the hardest thing I've ever done, and you're also the best. So... I think that's the moral of the story here. Anything worth having is worth fighting for.

I loved Jack because of every little thing about him. The way he laughed, the way he made me smile, the way he'd stay up until nine in the morning watching zombie movies he'd seen a hundred times, and the way he could never hold a grudge. I loved him because I loved him, not because it was fate or destiny or in my blood, We had chosen each other, and that felt more powerful and more magical.

What I told you before is still true. I want to know that when you're with me, it's because you want to be, not because you have to be.

This is the way the world ends; not with a bang or a whimper, but with zombies breaking down the back door.

Yeah, you're probably right," I admitted and slowly pulled myself out from underneath the covers. "You know, I really wish you'd catch onto the fact that I'm always right.

I think I draw most inspiration from writers like Richelle Mead and filmmakers like John Hughes. They both really understand the experience of being a teenager and how insistent and intense everything feels, but they're also smart, savvy, and fun.

How did you even know I wasn't in my room?" "I checked on you." Finn gave me a look like I was an idiot. "I check on you every morning." "You check on me when I'm sleeping?" I gaped at him. "Every morning?" He nodded. "I didn't know that." "Why would you know that? You're sleeping," Finn pointed out.