Every time you try to flirt with her, a puppy dies.

I remember how, at first, I had felt the tension in his lips, as if he was trying to make a barrier between us - then they had relaxed, parted slightly. And that's when I had known he wanted to kiss me, wanted to give in. That little parting of the lips, the little sigh that came out... I would hear that sigh forever. That little, little sound when the whole world seemed to open up.

This wasn't a position she wanted to be in. And yet . . . yet she knew that she was going to do it anyway.

And what else is she?" Jerome asked. Jazza didn't offer any reply so I chimed in with, "A bitchweasel?" "A bitchweasel!" Jazza's face lit up. "She's a bitchweasel! I love my new roommate.

Braiiinnnnssss," we said in unison. "It's both sad and incredibly impressive that you were all ready with that one.

Proximity doesn't breed familiarity.

Irony is the word I forget the meaning of immediately after I look it up, but I kind of feel like I live in a constant state of it.