When he moves, a streetlight stabs him, and the words flow out like blood.
What do you want to kiss me for? I'm filthy.'- Liesel So am I.'- Rudy
It kills me sometimes, how people die.
It's not the place, I think. It's the people. We'd have all been the same anywhere else.
He killed himself for wanting to live.
It's hard to not like a man who not only notices the colors, but speaks them