You’d best ask the lady boffin, sir,” Newkirk said. “Midshipmen aren’t allowed to have opinions.
And it was pretty clear that no prince was showing up, or at least that he was really late.
Sooner or later usually means too late
Once we turn, it’s new pretty, middle pretty, late pretty.” Shay dropped her arms, and her board stopped drifting. “Then dead pretty.
Once you told yourself a story enough times, it was so easy to keep on believing it.
We needed to become world-famous soon, while there was still that kind of world to be famous in.
Apparently textbooks were an endangered species here in Bixby, Oklahoma.
Where did you get that idea for a nose? - Frizz Mizuno
Wow," came a familiar voice, "Hypochondriac killed the cat." -Dess
What if destiny doesn't care?
To everyone who loves a long-secret romance, revealed at last.
Gravity was something you could beat; all it took was hydrogen, hot air, or even a bit of rope. But being a girl was a miserable, never-ending struggle.
You young things are too easily persuaded by the touch of lips.
She smiled, turning toward Alek. "You don't know what a friend you have in Dylan.
Shay sometimes talked in a mysterious way, like she was quoting the lyrics of some band no one else listened to.
I expect that you must receive top marks at school, young lady." Madeleine smiled as she stirred her tea. "There are always rewards for those who state the obvious frequently and with conviction.
The Rusty Ruins were the remains of an old city, a hulking reminder of back when there'd been way too many people, and everyone was incredibly stupid. And ugly.
It's just been a long week, that's all." "It's monday night, Jess." "My point exactly.
Not everything made you stronger. It was possible to survive, yet still be crippled for your trouble. Sometimes it was okay to run away, to skip the test, to chicken out. Or at least to get some help.
Cure for writer's block: blow something up(in the story)
You're splitting?" "No sh*it, Sherlock.
Alek said, "Do you think I'm being a fool?" "I think you're trying to do something good. But doing good is rarely easy, and no weapon has ever stopped a war.
Your father always suspected that being pretty-minded is simply the natural state for most people. They want to be vapid and lazy and vain—Maddy glanced at Tally—and selfish. It only takes a twist to lock in that part of their personalities. He always thought that some people could think their way out of it.
He makes me feel like that. Like flying.
The world needed more fireworks- especially now that there was going to be a shortage of beautiful, useless things.
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