I only wish I knew that you'd actually want to be with me when that time is over.

Could it be that simple? Tell one story to one generation and repeat it until it was accepted as fact?

It doesn't really matter how you feel about your character; it just matters what you do with it.

The Angeles air was quiet, and for a while I laid still, listening to the sound of Maxon breathing.

He stood and went to read my pin as I approached. “America, is it?” he said, a smile playing on his lips. “Yes, it is. And I know I’ve heard your name before, but could you remind me?

Marlee, what are you doing? Get under a tent before you burn your skin." She gave me a polite smile. "I'm happy here." "No, really," I said, putting a hand around her arm. "You'll look like my hair.

It's always the fear of looking stupid that stops you from being awesome.