Things die. But they don't always stay dead. Believe me, I know.

My mother wasnʹt sleeping with anybody. She doesnʹt even sleep with my father.

I thought Alchemists avoided alcohol the same way they do primary colors.

What hope is there?" I asked. "If even angels fall, what hope is there for the rest of us?

I looked at you... and saw your goodness, your hope, and your faith. Those are what make you beautiful. So, so beautiful. So it was't my hair?

Adrian frowned. 'Is that a noose?' 'It's a tie!' I cried, trying not to feel offended. He laughed, clearly delighted at this. 'My mistake.

I didn’t get her cutting at all. She’d done it sporadically, ever since the accident and it scared me each time. She'd try to explain it to me, how she didn't want to die—she just needed to get it out somehow. She felt so much emotionally, she would say, that a physical outlet—physical pain—was the only way to make the internal pain go away. It was the only way she could control it.