The commitment had disappeared, and although he still watched the imagined glory of stealing, she could see now he was not believing. He was trying to believe it, and that’s never a good sign.

I'm not one of these 'the characters write themselves; the story just fell out of me' kind of writers. Wish it was like that.

... And the boy whose hair remained the color of lemons forever.

Two weeks to change the world, fourteen days to destroy it.

You’re a human, you should understand self-obsession.

The nightmares arrived like they always did, much like the best player in the opposition when you've heard rumors that he might be injured or sick-but there he is, warming up with the rest of them, ready to take the field.

...one opportunity leads directly to another, just as risk leads to more risk, life to more life, and death to more death.