He's one kind of person, you're another. When life is going along normally, you're sort of the same. But when life turns strange and scary, when there's a crisis, suddenly you're completely different people.

One minute the teacher was talking about the Civil War. And the next minute he was gone. There. Gone. No 'poof.' No flash of light. No explosion.

Numbers still gave Astrid pleasure. That was the great thing about numbers: it required no faith to believe that two plus two equaled four. And math never, ever condemned you for your thoughts and desires.

They said a lot of things to each other that night, but nothing that involved words.

No," Lana said, "I'm not going to heal your scratch." "Good," Sanjit said. "Good? Why good?" "Because when you hold my hand, I don't want it to be work for you.

She was no longer theirs. She was his. And he was hers. And this was their world.

Paranoia," Sam muttered. "You're going slowly nuts, dude. Or maybe not so slowly, since you're talking to yourself.