Weirdly, an image of Adrian’s Love painting came back to me. I thought of the jagged red streak, slashing through the blackness, ripping it apart. Staring at Jill and her inconsolable pain, I suddenly understood his art a little bit better.

You'd give up drinking to go see your dad?" "Well, not permanently," he said. "That'd be ridiculous. But maybe I could switch to something slightly cheaper for a while. Like...slushes. Do you know how much I love those? Cherry, especially.

He'd barely seen me coming, and despite the horribleness of what I'd just done, I kind of wished one of my instructors had been there to grade me on such an awesome performance.

We try to do what's right, or rather what other say is right. But sometimes, when that goes against who we are...you have to choose.

I love pity parties. I wish I'd brought hats.

A different word usually came to my mind when I thought of Yeva, though it did sound a lot like “witch.

You and me are going to have so much fun, Rose. Picking out curtains, doing each other's hair, telling ghost stories.