Our tragedy is that we forget it might be someone else first.

It's the flaw that brings out the beauty.

He let out a hiss of pain,then smiled that crooked, sheepish smile he always fell back on when he was caught doing something bad. "Sorry. I-I didn't mean to. I just- I've been lying here for hours, thinking about blood.

You said you were allowed to lose it,' some part of her reminded herself. 'Not yet, not yet.

The funny thing about good people—people like Daneca—is that they really honestly don’t get the impulse toward evil. They have an incredibly hard time reconciling with the idea that a person who makes them smile can still be capable of terrible things. Which is why, although she’s accusing me of being a murderer, she seems more annoyed than actually worried about getting murdered. Daneca seems to persist in a belief that if I would just listen and understand how bad my bad choices are, I’d stop making them.

It is my belief that books are living things.

Once, there was a girl who vowed she would save everyone in the world, but forgot herself.