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Hey. Tod squeezed my hand to draw me out of my thoughts. I think death looks good on you.
Rachel Vincent
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Rachel Vincent
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More quotes by Rachel Vincent
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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Justice is for the victim.” Kick. “Vengeance is for the survivor.
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I still loved Marc desperately and couldn’t imagine life without him. Jace was…something else. Something I could feel but couldn’t articulate. Something I wanted, and hadn’t been able to resist in my grief-weakened state. He was something that would have to wait.
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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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I’m confiscating your hair dryer—you’ve fried your brain.
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When you push someone too far, they will push back and they push hard.
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I could take care of that obstacle for her - I'd tear down anything standing between us - but I couldn't destroy what I couldn't even see.
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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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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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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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Em didn't truly understand about my panic attacks - no one did. But she'd never pushed me to explain, never tried to ditch me when things got weird, and never once looked at me like I was a freak.
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Exactly what part of that is supposed to make me feel better? Though, honestly, hearing that she was jealous of me did make me feel a teeny, tiny bit better.
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Marc didn’t want to win by default. He wanted to win for real. Forever.
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Wow, Liv said, when I dropped the mallet back into the drawer. That looked like fun. I call dibs on the next over-the-top destruction of evidence.
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If she were going to die, I'd already be screaming. I'm a female bean sidhe. That's what we do.
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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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Standing, I turned to face my father. “It’s the same as the scent on Moore. It’s definitely a foreign cat, but it’s...more, somehow.” Ethan snickered at my unintentional pun, but I ignored him.
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There's pressure, but that's true no matter who you are or what you do.
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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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So, we wait until tomorrow night, and when you say the word, I cross over and haul you both out. Right? That's it? With any luck, yes. Luck? We were depending on luck? Nash is so screwed.
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