Hope, that risky, illustrious thing. It should have gone extinct by now, but we keep it alive.

He looks at me, and I don't know what he sees. I used to think it was Rose. But she's not here with us now, in this room. It's just him and me, and the books. I feel like our lives are in those books. I feel like all the words on the pages are for us.

She's beautiful and graceful, and she is very compassionate and loyal when you aren't responsible for the murder of her family.

I start trying to stay unconscious. The problem with this is that no amount of willpower can change the reality.

I liked just being with you. I liked the way you breathed when you were asleep. I liked when you took the champagne glass from my hand. I liked how your fingers were always too long for your gloves.

It is the face of a girl who has seen the world, who realizes that it hates her, and who hates it in return.

A feeling can't kill you.