A girl like that, Grandad said, perfumes herself with ozone and metal filings.
This is the part in the movie where that guy says, "Zombies? What zombies?" just before they eat his brains. I don't want to be that guy.
She sits up. I can’t read her expression, but her cheeks look a little pink. “I didn’t think you were going to be here.” “I live here.
Sometimes,” Sam says, “I can’t tell when you’re lying.” “I never lie,” I lie.
Ruthless. That’s my girl.
Death’s favorites don’t die.