They like their coffee like they like their ex-boyfriends: bitter.

Oh, my god," Augustus said. "i can't believe i have a crush on a girl with such cliché wishes." "i was thirteen," i said again, although of course i was only thinking "crush crush crush crush crush". I was flattered but changed the subject immediately.

She raised one leg and gave me all her weight as a I dipped her. She either trusted me or wanted to fall.

The light filtered throught the leaves and pine needles above as if through lace, the ground spotted in shadow.

Stop thinking about the landing, because it's all about falling.

Half-drunk on well-creamed gas station coffee and the exhilarating loneliness of a freeway in nighttime.

still, what could i say? that i didn't just feel depressed - instead, it was like the depression was the core of me, of every part of me, from my mind to my bones? that if he got blue, i got black? that i hated those pills so much, because i knew how much i relied on them to live?