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Pain is what I feed from when nothing else will nourish the noxious fury in my heart. It’s what I cling to when everything else—everyone else—slips right between my grasping fingers.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
Heart
Feed
Fingers
Pain
Noxious
Everyone
Nourish
Else
Grasping
Everything
Cling
Nothing
Fury
Right
Slips

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Come on, Kaylee, before I choke on testosterone and melodrama.
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It's kind of like when a clock battery runs down. The hour and minute hands don't disappear, but they don't keep ticking either. They freeze on the last minute they measured.
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Jace. This can't happen. I closed my eyes, thinking it would be easier to say without him looking back at me. But it wasn't. This isn't about us. I can't leave Marc.
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Then strong, warm arms wrapped around me from behind. I've got you, Tod whispered in my ear.
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So could we please not mob the three-thousand-plus-year-old reaper like tweens at a boy-band concert?
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Even before the withdrawal sets in, you'll do anything to get that feeling back, because as long as it lasts, nothing's wrong. It doesn't matter if you forget something, or lose something. Or if you fail someone. Nothing's wrong and everything feels good, and you never want it to end.
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You already said that, Sabine said, folding the wrapper back from her burger. You said it a lot, actually. Which supports my theory that apologies are basically pointless. They don't fix anything, right? That's why I rarely bother.
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Well that's too bad, because this is an assassination. No, this is an execution. The difference would be...? Assassination is murder. Execution is justice.
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Near-death experiences release a lot of endorphins, resulting in a natural high, Tod whispered. And it's totally true that one passion feeds another. You know we're way past 'near-death', right? My endorphins aren't listening to you.
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So,would you say I’m closer to a zombie or a vampire? I gotta know—are my parts going to rot and fall off, or am I forever frozen in youthful perfection?
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Now if you’ll excuse me, Death waits for no man. Except me.
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She wasn't feeling nothing. She was feeling too much. She was blocking it all out. That was a survival skill, and her still-beating heart was proof that it worked.
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The queen was my favorite chess piece. Unlike the women I knew in real life, she was powerful. Her job was to defend her husband at all costs, because while he was weak and practically defenseless—only allowed to move one square at a time—she was the strongest player on the board, hindered by no restrictions at all.
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He’s like the Rasputin of reapers.
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If this had ever happened before, it couldn't be happening now. That's what they mean by 'once in a lifetime'.
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He shrugged, looking right into my eyes. Right now, this is all I feel. He held our intertwined hands up for me to see and I wanted to look away, but I couldn't break the hold his gaze had on me, like he could see more than anyone else saw. Things I couldn't see myself.
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The moment the door opened I knew an ass-kicking was inevitable. Whether I'd be giving it or receiving it was still a bit of a mystery.
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My aunt and overprivileged cousin only recognize two states of being: glitter and grunge. And if you weren’t glitter, well, that only left one other option.
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He sank into that kiss, and fed from me like a starving man holding off famine. I drank from his soul in preparation for the drought to come. And when he finally pulled away, my throat was thick with unspoken words, my heart heavy with every apology I'd ever denied him. But it was too late for promises. The time had come for goodbye.
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Ask for the impossible, then settle instead for what you really wanted in the first place.
Rachel Vincent