She knew what it was to wait for someone who would never come home. She knew that grief, like a scar, faded but never really went away.

Petra turned to her. "Everybody lies about who they are. Name one person here who isn't doing that and I will drop out right now!" Shanti felt that snake of truth coil around her legs, threatening to squeeze. "I didn't mean..." "No one ever does." Petra said, shoving the baton back at Shanti.

I am for hockey. I find I should like to hit something with a stick. -Gemma Doyle Trilogy

Everyone's dying. A little, every day. Make it count.

Sometimes I see things, I think. Out of the corner of my eye, taunting me, and then it’s gone. And dreams. Such horrible dreams. What if something terrible happened to me? What if I am damaged?" The rain is a cool kiss on my sleeve as I link my arm with hers. "We’re all damaged somehow.

Because you don't notice the light without a bit of shadow. Everything has both dark and light. You have to play with it till you get it exactly right.

It's so laughable that it's somewhere beyond comedy and right into tragedy again.