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Around the outskirts of the city, cut off from town by the black oval of the river, everything was in darkness. Everyone ugly was in bed by now.
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
Everyone
Towns
Black
Bed
Around
Rivers
Everything
Ugly
City
Outskirts
Cutting
Oval
Darkness
River
Cities
Town
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And it was pretty clear that no prince was showing up, or at least that he was really late.
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Irony is always the best weapon against fascism.
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I kissed him once, she whispered. Well done. What did he do? Um... Deryn sighed. He woke up.
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Maybe this was how you stayed sane in wartime: a handful of noble deeds amid the chaos.
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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
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Most men's awareness doesn't extend past their dinner plates.
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Do you love him? Deryn swallowed, then pointed at the screen. He makes me feel like that. Like flying.
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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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Did you really think I was too fragile to know what Deryn was? Fragile? Volger looked about. I hadn't thought so, but now I find you brooding in a bathroom. This doesn't speak well of your sturdiness.
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He makes me feel like that. Like flying.
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But they're already singing our praises! They are Americans. They toot their horns for anything.
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What you do, the way you think, makes you beautiful.
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You're insane! she shouted. Pretty cool, huh? No!Tally yelled. Why didn't you tell me it was broken? Shay shrugged. More fun that way? More fun? Her heart beating fast,her vision strangely clear. She was full of anger and relief and...joy. Well, kind of. But you suck!
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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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Come on, it's almost midnight. Let's go watch them cut the cake.
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