But the thought of New Zealand instantly sent her mind to Watson, the possibly-Australian, possibly-Kiwi, definitely paranormal young fellow with videos of dead guys on his phone.

That was how people got through life, he supposed: by acknowledging death and telling it, “Not today.

So we came to say hello. To the world’s grouchiest person. Because that’s such fun.

And he had a dog, a nice dog. He couldn’t be too evil or dangerous if he had such a great dog.

Eventually the real world intruded again, and Sophie had to return to campus—woefully behind on homework, but incandescently in love.

Did I mention really, really jealous.

Being around her now was nine parts bliss and one part torment. And he wanted it to last as long as possible.

Love street! This is the right way.

Stop the blame game

Laughing is, like, my favorite thing to do.

Character is always lost when a high ideal is sacrificed on the altar of conformity and popularity.

Luther deters me from solitariness; but he does not mean from a sober solitude that rallies our scattered strengths and prepares us against any new encounter from without.

We want to create these dramatic situations, whether they are real or not, to entertain audiences.

Contradictions make people feel off. They'll say, "Hey, you just said this and now this person is doing that, how is that possible?"

All literature consists of whatever the writer thinks is cool. The reader will like the book to the degree that he agrees with the writer about what's cool.

In the mountains, there you feel free.

The problem of modern democracy is rooted in its neglect of unorganized people.