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

You can break a thing, but you cannot always guide it afterward into the shape you want.

Farewell, Father," she said. He fell back upon his chair, choking. She laughed, not with mirth or even mockery, but something that was closer to a sob. "You crafted me so sharp, I cut even myself.

There’s nothing like a gunshot to make you the life of the party.

You in trouble?” Sam asks. The way he says it, I wonder if he’s thinking about how to get out of here if I am.

There are no words for how much I will miss her, but I try to kiss her so that she'll know. I try to kiss her to tell her the whole story of my love, the way I dreamed of her when she was dead, the way that every other girl seemed like a mirror that showed me her face. The way my skin ached for her. The way that kissing her made me feel like I was drowning and like I was being saved all at the same time. I hope she can taste all that, bittersweet, on my tongue.

Instead, it just reminded her that sometimes there were no good choices.