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I love you all. But it's time to say good-bye, for now. be careful with the world, or the next time we meet, it might get ugly. -Tally Youngblood

Scott Westerfeld

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Scott Westerfeld
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: May 5
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Dallas
Texas
Scott David Westerfeld
Time
Tally
Love
Bye
World
Ugly
Careful
Meet
Next
Might
Good

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It didn't matter what you looked like. It was how you carried yourself, how you saw yourself.
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My name is tally youngblood and my mind is very ugly
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And here in America rival newspapermen attack each other on sight?
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It doesn't take much convincing to make someone believe they're better than everyone else.
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She couldn't disappoint the whole village. There were no wallscreens here, no newsfeeds or satellites bands, and touring soccer teams were no doubt few and far between. (...), that made stories a valuable commodity, and it probably wasn't very often that a stranger dropped in from the sky.
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He squeezed her hand. Then I'll come get you, wherever you are when it happens. We'll be okay. But what about everybody else? He stared out across the river, nodding slowly. My guess is, everybody else is in big trouble.
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Having a brain hurt so much sometimes.
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What you do, the way you think, makes you beautiful.
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Maybe she still was a pretty-head, making up irrational stories about the empty forest. The longer she stayed alone out here, the more Tally understood why the Rusties and their predecessors had believed in invisible beings, praying to placate spirits as they trashed the natural world around them.
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Their reasons don't mean anything unless I have a choice.
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Turns out if you never lie, there's always someone mad at you.
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Sometimes you can’t choose what you love.
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He makes me feel like that. Like flying.
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the parties are no fun until everyone gets drunk
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She thought of the orchids spreading across the plains below, choking the life out of other plants, out of the soil itself, selfish and unstoppable. Tally Youngblood was a weed. And, unlike the orchids, she wasn't even a pretty one.
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It's just the way things are. she shrugged. It's no one's fault. Or everyone's.
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