Trouble seems to follow me around, waiting to club me with a tire iron.

Being a martyr is highly overrated.

Christmas garland and a rock?" he said, a smile in his voice."Why not an ornament?" "Wolves aren't fragile," I told him. "And they're... stubbon and hard to move

I thought you were dead. Stupid. As if I'd die without taking you with me.

See you tomorrow,” he said, instead. “All right.” Then, impulsively, I asked, “Do you have a place to sleep tonight?” “Sure,” he said with a smile, and started off as if he had somewhere to be. I could have bitten off my tongue because I pushed him into a lie. Once he started lying to me, it would be harder to get him to trust me with the truth. I don’t know why it works that way, but it does—at least in my experience.

Some truths are truths, no matter who says them.

She crawled,” Ben said. There were tears in his voice. That was wrong. Ben barely even tolerated me on the best of days. “She crawled to the bathroom to clean herself again. If it weren’t for the two subs in the pack, I’d be on the bottom. And she wouldn’t stand up in my presence for guilt.