They think I'm too old to cause trouble. Old age is a powerful disguise.

They think we’re intelligent. So, Marco, keep quiet. We don’t want them to learn the truth.” Rachel

What's love? Something that lasts a week or a month and that's all you can except? Or is it just that some loves have a short shelf life? You know, like yogurt: after a week or two they go bad. And how do you recognize the other kind of love, the kind that isn't like yogurt? The kind that's more like... I don't know, like peanut butter, that lasts forever and always tastes good?

Death's gruesome face taunts: soulless eyes, crimson grimace. I really hate clowns.

And oh, god, how could so much regret and so much sweetness and so much sadness all be present in that single moment. I was already dead and missing my unlived life. I was already dead and Tobias was mourning. I tried to smile. For him.

Right now I would give all the yogurt raisins in all the world for a heart made of ice.

I always tell the truth, Stella replies. Although I sometimes confuse the facts.