I'd once read somewhere that is takes about half as long to recover from a deep relationship as the relationship lasted.

Of course, when we got home, we found that Dagda had peed on my down comforter. He had also eaten part of Mom's maidenhair fern and barfed it up on the carpet. Then he had apparently worked himself into a frenzy sharpening his ting by amazingly effective claws on the armrest of my dad's favorite chair. Now he was asleep on a pillow, curled up like a fuzzy little snail. "God, he's so cute," I said, shaking my head.

Robbie turned to the house again. "Got a flashlight?" "Of course not." I smirked. "That would make me too well prepared, wouldn't it?

Being good is something that one must choose over and over again, every day, throughout the day, for the rest of one's life," Asher said. "A day is made of a thousand decisions, most small, some huge. With each decision you have the chance to work toward light, or sink toward darkness.

It happened again this afternoon. Just the way it did that other night. We were talking--talking about how to protect her, actually--and then, suddenly, I looked at her and it was as if I'd found an entire universe in her eyes.

I should have known the power-hungry slave drivers at River's Edge would see my five days of freedom only as a challenge to be filled.

Stay here!" he commanded me, then he raced off after Cal. I stopped for just a moment. Then I ran after them.