...she made her home in between the pages of books.

There's a metaphor for the American public in here," Gansey murmered darkly, "but it escapes me at the moment.

They bit you. You should've changed, too, you know." "Sometimes I wish I had," I told him. He closed his eyes, miles away on the other side of the bed. "Sometimes I do, too.

Of course he was a part of what I hated about myself. Everything was a part of what I hated about myself. It wasn't really personal.

Mum once told Dad that vices are only vices when looked at through the frame of society.

Gansey studied Adam's erratic handwriting. His letters always looked like they were running from something.

Okay, outside," the clerk said. "Conversation outside. Bye! Have a nice night!