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You don't know me. Don't ever think you know me. The only things you know about me are the things you made me do, and that illustrates your character, not mine.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
Mine
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Not even if you fed me your firstborn, still wet and screaming
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The worst memories stick with us, while the nice ones always seem to slip through our fingers.
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At least you don’t need a prescription for tequila.
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For those who may not know this, Madeline recruited me specifically to help hunt and take out a serial soul thief- I call him Cap'n Crunch, Luca interrupted, and was rewarded with a roomful of frowns. You know. Because he's a cereal thief?
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Careful, pot, Tod said. Someone might notice your resemblance to the kettle.
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Kaylee and Nash are like those rocks that ancient cave people used to make fire. Bang them together, and you get sparks. Sabine said. Let's never again use the phrase 'bang them together' in reference to my brother and my girlfriend, Tod mumbled.
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I should have mixed something stronger than Coke floats.
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I should have said something. ... But my mouth wouldn't open, and the longer I stood there in silence, the better I can to understand the problem. It wasn't that I had nothing to say to him. It was that I had too much to say.
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I don't want to wear your dad's clothes. He hates me. You'd rather wear mine? Nash scowled.
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I liked that about her. I liked how laid back she was, when she wasn’t trying to stab me.
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Her dark-eyed glare narrowed on me. You could have least given him a shirt, Kaylee. Like you're an expert on when it's appropriate to wear a shirt. Sabine bristled. This seems headed into girl-fight territory, Tod said. Should I make popcorn?
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Come on, Kaylee, before I choke on testosterone and melodrama.
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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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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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... you just turned down the woman who put a marshmallow duck in your hot chocolate. I hope you feel like a real asshole now.
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You think he left a big flashing arrow pointing to a filing cabinet labeled 'Evidence Here!'? He's a Stray, Ethan, not Wile E. Coyote!
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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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Regret couldn't fix what he's broken. Apologies couldn't bring back what he's lost. What we'd lost.
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She watched me with a creepy sort of detached curiosity, as if I were a bug crawling across the sidewalk in front of her. I wondered briefly if she was the ant stomper type.
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A smart woman would have shut up. Did I? Hell no. Intelligence is overrated anyway.
Rachel Vincent