When you look death in the eye and death blinks first, nothing seems impossible.

The next time you better have a good reason," I tease him. "Okay." He kisses me again. "Reason?" I ask softly. "Um. You're really pretty?" "That's a good one. I don't know if it's true, but it's good.

And red is not the color of apples or roses or the dresses that pretty girls wear in the summertime. That is not the color of red at all.

His heart, the war. Her face, the battlefield.

Some things you can never leave behind. They don't belong to the past. They belong to you.

Are you okay?" I (Cassie) call up to him. "Um. Define okay." (Ben) "Okay means you're not bleeding to death." "I'm okay.

That's a stupid question,' said Malachi. 'Because he didn't warn him. He didn't warn anyone.' 'No, it's a philosophical question,' Kearns corrected him. 'Which makes it useless, not stupid.