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.

She wants me to take out Patton.” Barron’s brows draw together. “Take out? As in transform him?” “No,” I say. “As in take out to dinner. She thinks we’d make a good couple.

Occasionally, there are battles in the sky. One likes to imagine the angels are always triumphant. One does not like to think of the ancient and terrible scales balancing the infernal and divine as wobbling back and forth. Tilting freely, to and fro. One does not like to think that sometimes it is the angel that falls.

It feels like the whole world has turned upside down. There aren't any more rules. Hey,' I say to Sam, because if the world's gone crazy, then I guess I can do whatever I want. "Guess what? I'm a worker.

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

Telling Sam and Daneca feels like peeling off my own skin to expose everything underneath. It hurts.

Keep going' she told herself, 'Don't look back.' But she looked anyways.