We are not going to die." Butters stared up at me, pale, his eyes terrified. "We're not?" No. And do you know why?" He shook his head. "Because Thomas is too pretty to die. And because I'm too stubborn to die." I hauled on the shirt even harder. "And most of all because tomorrow is Oktoberfest, Butters, and polka will never die.

You can't abandon life just because it's scary, and just because you get hurt.

You're dead, son. Cheer is contraindicated.

Billy squinted at me. "Why are you letting them go?" "Because they're real." "How do you know?" "The one I was holding crapped on my hand.

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of trauma, I will fear no concussion.

Knowledge is your weapon...Kill them with it.

If you can't manage courtesy, try silence.