Oh My God," He Said. "a Kind

What Were Good And Evil, Really, But Stupid Categories? Stupid Categories That Restricted People And Punished Or Rewarded Them Based On How They Responded To Their Own Natures, Natures They Really Didn't Have Any Way To Control.

All We Can Go On Is What We Think, How We See The World. If You Can't Trust Your Own Mind What Can You Trust?

We Take What What We Can Get.

Love Is . . .” An Old Memory With Adrian Came Back To Me, And Some Of The Turbulent Emotion I Always Carried Within Me These Days Welled Up In My Chest. It Was Stupid, Feeling So Lovesick When He’d Been Gone Less Than A Day, But I Couldn’t Get Him Or The Ways He Described Love Out Of My Head. “. . . A Flame In The Dark. A Breath Of Warmth On A Winter’s Night. A Star That Guides You Home.

It's Late, I'm Tired, And Your Cigarettes Are Giving Me A Headache," I Growled. "i Suppose That's Fair." He Drew In On The Cigarette And Let Out The Smoke. "some Women Think They Make Me Look Sexy." "i Think You Smoke Them So You Have Something To Do While Thinking Up Your Next Witty Line." He Choked On The Smoke, Caught Between Inhaling And Laughing. "rose Hathaway, I Can't Wait To See You Again. If You're This Charming While Tired And Annoyed And This Gorgeous While Bruised And In Ski Clothes, You Must Be Devastating At Your Peak.