Life is hard, and a lot of people come home tired from work. If they're gonna spend half an hour reading, they want some entertainment and a sense of achievement. So that's what I give them. That's all I'm trying to do. Is that really so wrong?

Life can be like walking on a high wire. Falling seems a tiny misstep away.

For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin -- real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.

What was premeditated murder if not calculated leverage?

Man, you weigh a freaking ton. What have you been eating, rocks?" * Max: "Why, is your head missing some?" o Chapter 68 p. 214 + Fang carried Max while flying after she had "a stroke or something". Gazzy: "I vill now destroy de Snickuhs bahs!" ter Borcht: "Is dere anysing special about you? Anysing vorth saving?" Fang: "Besides my fashion sense? I play a mean harmonica.

He gives my hand a tight squeeze, but that desperation, that urgency between us is gone. No insecurities. Max and Fang. Fang and Max. No longer a question. We just are.

Stop trying to write sentences and start trying to write stories.