I start trying to stay unconscious. The problem with this is that no amount of willpower can change the reality.
I never wanted to live forever," she says. "I just wanted enough time.
She has the majesty of hurricanes and explosions.
I miss something I never even had.
Home?' I say. It's a word that can mean anywhere and nowhere.
Hope, that risky, illustrious thing. It should have gone extinct by now, but we keep it alive.
Cure" is one of the most precious words in the English language. It's a short word. A clean and simple word. But it isn't so easy a thing as it sounds. There are questions like: How will this affect us in ten years? In twenty? What will it do to our children? Our children's children?
Maybe it is desperation. Maybe we can't let things fall apart without trying. We can't let go of the people we love.
I wanted so badly to tell him, but something about that entire night seemed so beautiful, so bizarre, that I didn't trust it with my secrets.
When we're alive, life consumes us. But when we die, all of the color and the motion is gone so quickly, it's as though it can no longer stand to be wasted on us.
He sits next to me, careful to avoid my hair that's splayed out around my head like blood. A bullet to the forehead, boom, blond waves everywhere.
It's quiet for a while, and then Rowan says; "We could talk now. We're alone out here. No walls." "There are always walls." I say.
He looks at me, and I don't know what he sees. I used to think it was Rose. But she's not here with us now, in this room. It's just him and me, and the books. I feel like our lives are in those books. I feel like all the words on the pages are for us.
We destroy things with our curiosity. We shatter with our best intentions
Things will get worse before they get better.
We figure out what death means when we're born, practically, and we live our whole lives in some kind of weird denial about it.
He says one word, nodding into the daylight. "Look." It's an astounding word. It's a gift.
I want to make the world into something better so that he can be okay.
It was a terrible decision, and I confess I'd make it again.
Humans are the absolute worst thing to happen to this planet.
I don’t have too many books, I have too little shelving.
I wonder what it’s like for her, looking so much like a dead girl.
A feeling can't kill you.
Living in a place like this, she must have learned how to see all the monsters that can hide a person.
Lovers are weapons, but love is a wound.
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