She loves the serene brutality of the ocean, loves the electric power she felt with each breath of wet, briny air.

Mine. The language of love is like that, possessive. That should be the first warning that it's not going to encourage anyone's betterment.

You don't have to protect these people, Cassel." I am these people.

Philip Sharpe was a soldier in God's army," says the minister. "Now he marches with the angels.

Once, she made a boy come out of his house and kiss her under the streetlight. It was her first kiss. She thinks it was probably his, too. She never told him and she never, ever will.

I'm afraid that whatever I touch is spoilt by the contact." "I'm not scared of being spoiled," Val said.

Librarians are hot. They have knowledge and power over their domain...It is no coincidence how many librarians are portrayed as having a passionate interior, hidden by a cool layer of reserve. Aren't books like that? On the shelf, their calm covers belie the intense experience of reading one. Reading inflames the soul. Now, what sort of person would be the keeper of such books?