The gods do make playthings of us ... but it is we mortals who provide them with the tools.

His father's made us paint half this town and if we stick around any longer he'll make us paint the rest of it." -Jonah Griggs

He bursts out laughing. It's short, as if he regretted allowing me to make him laugh, but the satisfaction's already mine.

I don't want to let go, because tonight I'm not looking for anything more than being part of him. Because being part of him isn't just anything. It's kind of everything.

What do you think would happen if we kissed right here, right now?" he asks, digging his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants, grinning right back at me. "I think it would cause a riot." "Well, you know me," he says, lowering his head towards me. "Causing a riot is what I do best." Santangelo approaches before Griggs gets any closer and pulls him away. "Are you guys insane?" he says, irritated. "It's called peaceful coexistence, Santangelo. You should try it and if it works we may sell the idea to the Israelis and Palestinians," I say, throwing his own words back at him.

We were playing Rock, Paper, Scissors," she told him once. "I was paper and she was rock so I lived and she died.

So why would I want someone to be my everything when one day they might not be around?" Jellicoe Road