There was a war going on in our house. A silent war that sounded no guns, and the bodies that fell were only wishes that died and the bullets were only words and the blood that spilled was always called pride.

Love, how often that word came up in books over and over again. If you had wealth and health, and beauty and talent...you had nothing if you didn't have love. Love changed all that was ordinary into something giddy, powerful, drunken, enchanted.

We lived in the attic, Christopher, Cory, Carrie, and me, Now there are only three.

A flower blooms best in a happy pot.

love, is an unnatural attachment to another living thing. it's the root cause of most personal problems people have.

Unless i'm reading an assignment or doing a paper or taking a test, i'm thinking about you.

... and still I stayed to plan all my revenge, my vengeance against those who had turned me from good to evil, and made of me what I was going to be from this day forward.