He whipped out his sheet, then pulled it over himself and wrapped it tightly around his face like an old woman in a shawl. 'How do I look?' 'Like the ugliest shanky girl I’ve ever seen,' Minho responded. 'You better thank the gods above you were born a dude.' 'Thanks.

Sometimes what works in a book is too "in your face" when converted to the big screen and sound.

Do books about the Holocaust make us think, "Oh well, there was nothing we could've done to prevent that or prevent it from happening again"? Of course not. It makes us angry and determined to stop such atrocities.

He didn't care about the others anymore. The chaos around him seemed to siphon away his humanity, turn him into an animal. All he wanted was to survive, make it to that building, get inside. Live. Gain another day.

Yeah, you're a regular Mozart...well, except for the whole music thing.

Ah, my Knight in Shining Armor. What, you don't think I can fend for myself?

It’s like watching a starving pig eat his own klunk.