People are like that, judging you before they know you.

Do you still Kill Gerbils?

We believe in the wrong things. That's what frustrates me the most. Not the lack of belief, but the belief in the wrong things. You want meaning? Well, the meanings are out there. We're just so damn good at reading them wrong.

The handwriting was a girl’s. I mean, you can tell. That enchanted cursive.

Bruises mapped my body from bumping into tables and tripping over curbs while walking with a book in my hand, my eyes focused on the pages instead of the live space around me.

What's better, I wonder - to be a toy for the humans, or to control your own destiny , even if the only way to do so is suicide?

I was horribly bookish, to the point of coming right out and saying it, which I knew was not socially acceptable.