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there was a beautiful princess with a prince kissing her lips only the prince was totally ugly

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
Kissing
Totally
Lips
Ugly
Beautiful
Prince
Princess

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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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I guess sometimes you have to lie to find the truth.
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The Internet is global and seemingly omniscient, while iPods and phones are all microscopic workings encased in plastic blobjects. Compare that to a steam engine, where you can watch the pistons move and feel the heat of its boilers. I think we miss that visceral appeal of the machine.
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What did a happy ending even mean in real life, anyway? In stories you simply said, 'They lived happily ever after,' and that was it. But in real life people had to keep on living, day after day, year after year.
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The world needed more fireworks- especially now that there was going to be a shortage of beautiful, useless things.
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Sooner or later usually means too late
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maybe when you look at your face 50 times its really not that interesting anymore
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When the term machine gun enters common parlance, the word machine becomes much more sinister.
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The lie took form as she spoke, pulling on as many strands of truth as it could reach.
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Okay... That's still blind-making.
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But it's always taking a risk, when you ... kiss someone new.
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I have no formal training as a writer at all, not even a single English class in college.
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There was a species of middle pretty who smiled at everything: happy smile, disappointed smile, you're-in-trouble smile.
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If you see everything through hovercams and feed stories, you wind up blind to what's right in front of you.
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I feel like sometimes my best friend is not my best friend but my mortal enemy
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A little drama wins more friends than boring.
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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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your not alone, Tally. Don't pretend you are
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Tally turned away. Five minutes was suddenly too long to stand here, eyes burning, unable to cry.
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Left alone, human beings are a plague. They multiply relentlessly, consuming every resource, destroying everything they touch.
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