“Fear can keep you alive. The trick is not to let it overwhelm you. Not to let it rule you. If you’re afraid, that’s the universe trying to tell you something. Get away. Don’t run; don’t panic. Just pick up and walk out, calm as you please. Panic makes you stupid.”

Are you stalking me, Mr. Fulton?” The idea both amused and horrified Jazz.

Homecoming’s stupid.” And it is. Buch of kids looking for excuses to grope eachother all night.

Yes, pain meant life. But the symmetric property did not apply; Life did not mean pain.

Anger and hatred, when left unfed, bleed away like air from a punctured tire, over time and days and years. Forgiveness is stealth.

This is why I forgive, but I don’t forget. When you forget someone, the forgiveness doesn’t mean anything anymore.

What was the opposite of linkage blindness? What described being certain of something without any kind of evidence?…The term was faith.

You can’t rely on love. Love will let you down every time. Every. Single. Time. I don’t love Jecca. I don’t love Fanboy. But… God, the buts in life will kill you absolutely every time, won’t they. I don’t love. But I need. I can admit that to myself.

Sometimes hope could be the most frightening thing in the world.

I suddenly realize that I’m naked, which shouldn’t bother me since it’s the phone, but for some reason it does. “How’s it hanging?” Kyra asks and now I think I’m blushing. It’s just an expression, but jeez!

…She’s not buying [the lie], but there’s nothing else on the shelves.

See, forgiveness doesn’t happen all at once. It’s not an event – it’s a process.

And it’s true. It’s so true. All those years of loving Zik because he never asked about Eve… I never realized, I never understood. It was his job as my best friend not to ask. But it was my job as his best friend to tell him without being asked.

A river of images and thoughts and feelings, dirtied and polluted so that no one could drink from it without gagging.

. . . but there’s a restraining order in place.’ She speaks slowly, choosing her words carefully. ‘I’m not supposed to be this close to you.’ You were never supposed to be this close to me,’ I say, and I have no idea why.

What if a puppet could cut its own strings, and in that act of defiance and strength of will become truly alive? Become is own puppetmaster?

(Man, I wish life had emoticons, you know? So that when your dad pisses you off you could like click a mental button or something and just show him one of those rolleyes. That would rock) Anyway.