Did you hear?" he asked. "They found another body around nine this morning. It's the Ripper, definitely." "Good morning," I replied. "Morning. Listen to this. The second victim.

I decided to deflect her attitude by giving a long, Southern answer. I come from people who know how to draw things out. Annoy a Southerner, and we will drain away the moments of your life with our slow, detailed replies until you are nothing but a husk of your former self and that much closer to death.

She wasn't only gay, she was a gay elf.

One thing," I said, when we had broken apart and the swirling feeling in my head subsided. "Maybe...don't tell your mom too much about this. I think she has ideas." "What?" he asked, all innocence, as he put an arm around my shoulders and led me back toward his house. "Don't your parents cheer and stare when you make out with someone? Is that weird where you come from? I guess they don't get to see it much, though. From jail, I mean." "Shut it, Weintraub. If I knock you down in the snow, these kids will swarm and eat you.

The whole "weak in the knees" thing,which she always thought was just some idiotic expression back from the golden age of idiotic expressions,was real. -Suite Scarlett

Writing is one of the few careers for which you essentially train yourself, the other two major ones being juggling and pickpocketing.

There is nothing about a bad situation that fourteen hyper cheerleaders can't worsen.