It was an addiction. A pointless, self-destructive addiction. But really, is there any other kind?

The problem with getting everything you want in life is that you're not prepared for disappointment when it comes.

I don't hate it. It does no good to hate something you can't change.

Did he show himself?” Nash asked, and I glanced to my right to see him staring at my father, as fascinated as I was. My dad nodded. “He was an arrogant little demon.” “So what happened?” I asked. “I punched him.” For a moment, we stared at him in silence. “You punched the reaper?” I asked, and my hand fell from the strainer onto the edge of the sink. “Yeah.” He chuckled at the memory, and his grin brought out one of my own. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen my father smile. “Broke his nose.

If I love you more than you love me, I’m as good as dead. Yet I can’t make myself take it back. I can’t just walk away from you, because every time you pass by me without smiling, without touching my hand, or at least making eye contact, it feels like I’m dying inside.

He went down like a cheerleader after prom.

Forever used to feel like a curse. Now it feels like a promise.