Half the time when brothers wrestle, it's just an excuse to hug each other.

It is my time. The time of maximum ride.

If the White House could do more to tell parents that getting children reading is their business too, we'd see a big difference. Hollywood and the NBA or NFL could step in, too. In England they have an event called Book Day, where every child receives a pound to use at any bookstore.

The receptionist looked us over, then went back to typing something incredibly urgent—like her résumé́ for another job.

She had a lot of hugs to give, but not enough people to give them to.

I mean,he decided we'd be better apart,you know?it wasn't a joint decision.like, if your gonna make a decision about me and my life without consulting me,i'd better be dying and unconscious and you'd better be following carefully written instructions.

What are you doing in there, waxing your mustache?” Iggy yelled, pounding on the bathroom door. I yanked the door open and pushed him backward hard, making him stagger. “I don’t have a mustache, you idiot!” Iggy giggled and put his arms up to protect himself in case I punched him. “And you know what?” I added. “You don’t have one either. Well, maybe in a couple years. You can always hope.” I left him in the hallway, anxiously fingering his upper lip.