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But my hands are in the right place. Heart, I corrected. Your heart's in the right place. Yeah, but my hands are in an even better place. And so they were.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
Even
Heart
Corrected
Yeah
Place
Hands
Better
Right

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Justice is for the victim.” Kick. “Vengeance is for the survivor.
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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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Some things are private. Some things needed to be said, even when the person who needed to hear them couldn’t hear anything. Ever again.
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You think I need to be rescued? I think it doesn't hurt to let someone else do the rescuing every now and then, when your own armor starts to get banged up.
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Not even if you fed me your firstborn, still wet and screaming
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...sometimes compassion is the greater part of honor.
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The problem with getting everything you want in life is that you're not prepared for disappointment when it comes.
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I live to serve. except the part about living...
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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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I'd just stepped out of the kiddie pool and into the deep end, with no floaties. And drowning was not an option.
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Is that a joke? Please tell me you're joking. -Sophie I never joke about carnivorous bunnies. -Luca
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I want you, Kaylee, like I’ve never wanted anything. Ever. I want the fire. I want the heat, and the light, and I want the burn.
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Holy silicone suppository, Batman!” Ethan said, grinning. Dan snorted, Parker coughed to disguise a laugh, and I glared at them all. “What?” My brother shrugged defensively. “That’s what it looks like.
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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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But I had no plans to end my own life, and accidents couldn't be predicted. Neither could murder, unless my aunt and uncle were planning to take me out themselves.
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I'm not going to lose you, Kaylee. No matter what I have to do, or whom I have to fight. Even if that means quashing your vexing tendencies toward self-sacrifice. Did you just say 'vexing'? Nash asked. Tod scowled. Nothing else seemed to fit. I stand by my word choice.
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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.
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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.
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If I love you more than you love me, I’m as good as dead. Yet I can’t make myself take it back. I can’t just walk away from you, because every time you pass by me without smiling, without touching my hand, or at least making eye contact, it feels like I’m dying inside.
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Sophie glanced from me to Sabine, then back, scowling. I'm not scared of her. I can handle myself. Yeah, and hissing kittens think they're badass too, Sabine said.
Rachel Vincent