I try to think of something catchy to say, but there's nothing but irritation that something that was funny yo an eleven-year-old boy is still funny to a seventeen-year-old one.

You're getting your weird all over me.

Fate," Blue replied, glowering at her mother, "is a very weighty word to throw around before breakfast.

I was thinking lots of things, but most of them needed to stay thoughts, not words.

He sounded absolutely miserable. “Are you ever going to speak to me?

It's a lovely answer and takes me entirely by surprise. I hadn't realized we were having a serious conversation, or I think I would've given a better reply when he asked me.

Now I am the unknown, the unknowable.