kindlehighlight

We hand the meat over to Greasy Sae in the kitchen. She likes District 13 well enough, even though she thinks the cooks are somewhat lacking in imagination. But a woman who came up with a palatable wild dog and rhubarb stew is bound to feel as if her hands are tied here.

The search for the purpose of life has puzzled people for thousands of years. That__ because we typically begin at the wrong starting point__urselves. We ask self-centered questions like What do I want to be? What should I do with my life? What are my goals, my ambitions, my dreams for my future? But focusing on ourselves will never reveal our life__ purpose.

There are two mistakes one can make along the road to truth. _ Not going all the way, and not starting._ _ Siddhrtha Gautama

All stories are true,_ Skarpi said. __ut this one really happened, if that__ what you mean._ He took another slow drink, then smiled again, his bright eyes dancing. __ore or less. You have to be a bit of a liar to tell a story the right way. Too much truth confuses the facts. Too much honesty makes you sound insincere.

People come and go, in and out of each other__ lives like it__ nothing. So I don__ know how/why this should be a big deal.

I don__ know what boldness came over me, but the resolute heaviness of Dash__ demeanor threatened to crush my soul. My pinky finger crept over and nestled against his, for comfort. Like a magnet, his pinky finger latched onto and intertwined with mine. I like magnets a whole lot.

Maybe he didn__ really encourage me to do things, but he didn__ prevent me from doing them either. But after a while, I didn__ do things because I didn__ want him to think different about me. But the thing is, I wasn__ being honest. So, why would I care whether or not he loved me when he didn__ really even know me?

Don__ ever get old. With each year that passes, the old Viking idea of jumping off a cliff to one__ death looks better and better. The only thing to hope for is that you get so senile that you think you__e twenty years old again. That would be fun to relive.

The world is full of shitheads, Rhea. Don__ listen to them__isten to me. And I know that Lou is one of those shitheads. But I listen.

What do you know of poetry?_ Ambrose said without bothering to turn around. __ know a limping verse when I hear it,_ I said. __ut this isn__ even limping. A limp has rhythm. This is more like someone falling down a set of stairs. Uneven stairs. With a midden at the bottom._ __t is a sprung rhythm,_ he said, his voice stiff and offended. __ wouldn__ expect you to understand._ __prung?_ I burst out with an incredulous laugh. __ understand that if I saw a horse with a leg this badly __prung,_ I__ kill it out of mercy, then burn its poor corpse for fear the local dogs might gnaw on it and die.

I failed math twice, never fully grasping probability theory. I mean, first off, who cares if you pick a black ball or a white ball out of the bag? And second, if you__e bent over about the color, don__ leave it to chance. Look in the damn bag and pick the color you want.

You__e my change of skin / my summer-winter-fall / I spring to follow you / this loss is beautiful.

Peeling off my skin / leaving just my eyes behind / You see inside my head / Still know that you are mine.

Better to be the failure who nobly strived than the success who never really had to.

Addiction is the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story. It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never even dared to admit that you wanted__n emotional speedball, perhaps, of thunderous love and roiling excitement. Soon you start craving that intense attention, with the hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is withheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy and depleted (not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but who now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore__espite...

The desperation was coming off you in waves. You were all but begging to dance with me. I am doing you a favor.

Never make a decision until you have to.

They say God never gives us more than we can handle, but sometimes I think God has overestimated what I can take.