Talking. According to Marc, I could talk the color off a crayon.

I couldn't see who swam in the darkness, who wore shadows like a second skin.

Yeah. She wants him back and has decided I'm in her way. But I have news for that little sleep-terrorist--it's going to take more than a couple of bad dreams to scare me off, so I hope she has something bigger up her sleeve.

Lit majors are not known for watching where they're going; most of us walk with our eyes in a book instead of on the path ahead.

I don't want to wear your dad's clothes. He hates me." "You'd rather wear mine?" Nash scowled.

Think of it as a second opinion on his value. If he wasn't worth the fight, wouldn't she just let him go? Wouldn't you?

The school sent you flowers. I’m sure that totally makes up for the fact that they hired the psychotic, soul-stealing pedophile who murdered you in your own home.