What if I was the sexual equivalent of popcorn? Suitable for light snacking only?

Why do they call it losing your virginity, anyway? It's Not Like I don't know where I left it." "You'd be surprised how many people don't.

Justice is for the victim.” Kick. “Vengeance is for the survivor.

You mostly.” Her hands went still again as her eyes stared off into the past with a look so wistful it made me ache for her. “The boys tended to take care of each other but you were too much for anyone else to handle.” I poked at the ball of yarn avoiding her eyes. “I wasn’t that bad.” She smiled. “You broke Ethan’s arm.” “It was self-defense. He wouldn’t let go of my foot.” “He was helping you tie your shoe.

But if there was a protocol for how to say goodbye to your newly ex-boyfriend's brother, right after you kissed him and probably sent your ex into the arms of his willing ex-girlfriend, I didn't know what it was.

I am not cute. I am the dreaded Grim Reaper. People fear me, you know. There's a whole song about it.

The queen was my favorite chess piece. Unlike the women I knew in real life, she was powerful. Her job was to defend her husband at all costs, because while he was weak and practically defenseless—only allowed to move one square at a time—she was the strongest player on the board, hindered by no restrictions at all.