And I can't be running back and fourth forever between grief and high delight.
How old are you? I asked her. "Old enough to know better." she said.
In every school I've gone to, all the athletic bastards stick together.
He had a theory, Walt did, that the religious life, and all the agony that goes with it, is just something God sics on people who have the gall to accuse Him of having created an ugly world.
Real ugly girls have it tough. I feel so sorry for them sometimes.
Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.