le book review number thirteen~ red glove

title: red glove
author: holly black
stars: 5/5

First sentence: "I don't know whether it's day or night when the girl gets up to leave."

This is the second book in the Curse Worker's series. Holly Black has captured her characters beautifully once again and the mystery tangled in this novel was brilliant.

From inside the cover:
Crimes and cons.
Magic and the mob.


SPOILERS! (if you haven't read the first book, skip these italics.)
In Cassel Sharpe's world, they go together. Cassel always thought he was an ordinary guy, until he realized his memories were being manipulated by his brothers. Now he knows the truth - he's the most powerful curse worker around. A touch of his hand can transform anything - or anyone - into something else.
That was how Lila, the girl he loved, became a white cat. Cassel was tricked into thinking he killed her, when actually he tried to save her. Now that she's human again, he should be overjoyed. Trouble is, Lila's been cursed to love him, a little gift from his emotion-worker mom. And if Lila's love is as phony as Cassel's made-up memories, then he can't believe anything she says or does. 
When Cassel's oldest brother is murdered, the Feds recruit Cassel to make sense of the only clue - crime-scene images of a woman in red gloves. But the mob is after Cassel too - they know how valuable he could be to them. Cassel is going to have to stay one step ahead of both sides just to survive. But where can he turn when he can't trust anyone - least of all, himself?
Love is a curse and the con is the only answer in a game too dangerous to lose.


There are so many twists and turns that you don't know what to think (in a good way.) You are never left behind but also, you can't predict what's going to happen. There is such a shocking ending that you won't see coming. There is mystery and darkness and elevated with clever humor and light moments between Sam and Cassel. This book I'd say is almost better than the first.

I'd recommend the series.

memorable moments number six~ red glove

page 1: 
"I don't know whether it's day or night when the girl gets up to leave. Her minnow silver dress swishes against the tops of her thighs like Christmas tinsel as she opens the hotel door.

xxx

page 2:
"'You ready for some breakfast?'
'Just coffee, I think. I'll make it.' I push myself up and pad over to the complimentary pot. There's a bag of grounds, sugar, and some powdered creamer sitting on a plastic tray.
'Cassel, how many times do I have to tell you that it isn't safe to drink out of those things? Someone could have been brewing meth in it.' Mom frowns. She always worries about the weirdest things. Hotel coffeepots. Cell phones. Never normal stuff, like the police. 'I'll order us both up coffee from the kitchen.'
'They could be brewing meth there, too.' I say, but she ignores me.


"Her smile is big enough that I almost want to smile along with her.
That's my mom."

xxx

page 5:
"I should have told her I loved her back then. Back when it would have meant something."


"Waiting is the hardest thing about any con job. The moments slip by and your hands start to sweat, anticipating what's coming. Your mind wanders. You're all keyed up from adrenaline, but there's nothing to do.
Distraction leads to disaster. Mom's rule."

xxx

page 6:
"People start yelling. Yeah, because a guy with hose over his head is never the good guy. He is, in fact, the stereotype - maybe even the archetype - of a bad guy."

xxx

page 11:
"Sunlight makes my brain feel like it's throbbing inside my skull."

xxx

page 15:
"I park my Benz in the seniors' lot, which is much closer to the dorms than where underclassmen are forced to leave their cars. I feel a little smug until I shut off the engine and it makes an odd metallic cough, like maybe it just gave up the ghost."

"Over the doorway of the large brick building hands a hand-lettered sign: WELCOME FRESHMEN. The trees rustle with a light wind, and I am overcome with a feeling of nostalgia for something I haven't yet lost."

xxx

page 18:
"Maybe it would be safe to call her, just to talk for a few minutes. Just to hear her voice.
I want to, so badly that I force myself to call my brother Barron instead, just to remind me what's real. He told me to call once I settled in, anyway. I figure this is settled enough.
'Hey,' he says, picking up after only one ring. 'How's my favorite brother?' Every time I hear his voice, I get the same knot in my stomach. He made me into a killer. He used me, but he doesn't remember that. He thinks we're thick as thieves, hand in glove. All the things I made him think.
Blowback ate away so many of his memories that he believes the fake ones I carefully forged into his notebooks - the ones of us being close. And that makes him the only person I'm sure I can trust.
Pathetic, right?"

xxx

page 19:
"'Roger dodger. Mission heard and accepted,'..."

xxx

page 21:

"'Boys,' she says. 'We're trying to be an example to all the new students, now that we're seniors, aren't we?'
'Can't we be bad examples?'"

xxx

page 22:
"'Not everyone's like Daneca.' I say.
'No one is like Daneca.' Sam has that slightly dazed look of a man in love. 'I think it's hard for her, you know. Because she cares so much, and most people barely care at all. Including me, I guess.'"
Daneca used to annoy me with all her bleeding-heart crap. I figured there was no point in changing a world that didn't want to be changed. But I don't think Sam would appreciated me saying that out loud. And I don't even know if I believe it anymore.
'Maybe you could changer her mind about the horror genre,' I say instead. 'You know, show her some classic stuff. Rent Frankenstein. Do a dramatic reading of 'The Raven'. Ladies love 'Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token that lie they soul has spoken!' Who can resist that?'
Sam doesn't even smile.
'Okay, I say, holding up my hands in the universal sign of surrender. 'I'll stop.'"

xxx

page 27:
"It's amazing how rich kids get itchy when they can't spend money fast enough. 
Just like criminals get itchy when we're not working all the angles."

xxx

page 28:
"Greg, however, narrows his eyes and smiles down at me like he's daring me to start something.
I'd love to wipe that smug expression off his face. First, though, I'd have to get up off my knees."

xxx

page 31:

"...'The future's going to be here sooner than you think.'"


"Outside our window the grass of the quad shines in the moonlight, like it's made of metal blades."

xxx

page 32:
"'We're off to a good start,' I say. 'Fashionably late.'
'Just doing our part to keep their expectations low,' says Sam.

xxx

page 34:
"'But if you're here-,' I start, not sure how I can finish.
'It hurts not to be near you,' she says quietly, carefully, like the words cost her something.

xxx

page 35:
"'I'm sorry,' I say, which isn't part of the script. It slips out. I don't know how to deal with this. I know how to be the witness to her grief. I don't know how to be this kind of villain."

xxx

page 39:
"I see her face as we leave... 
Someone should warn her never to play poker."

xxx

page 41:
"When he speaks, his voice has the cadences of someone used to speaking to a congregation. I'd bet there's a preacher somewhere in his family."

xxx

page 42:
"Hunt's contempt is so obvious that I add a mental note about him to my imaginary profile: He thinks I have it easy, which means he thinks he had it hard."

xxx

page 44:
"It's a relief to tell a lie this big; I feel like I'm daring them to contradict it."

xxx

page 54:
"We're so sorry, he's going to say. We're so sorry.
But I'm sorriest of all."

xxx

page 56:
"I kneel in front of his body, but I have no words for Philip. I don't want his forgiveness. I don't forgive him."

"'Oh, shut up,' she says automatically. Then, 'Sorry, I didn't -' 
'Everyone has to stop saying they're sorry, ' I say, maybe a tiny bit too loudly.
Sam looks around the room in a slightly panicked way. 'Uh, I don't know how to tell you this, but all these people are going to tell you that. That's, like, pretty much the point of funerals.'
The corner of my mouth lifts. Having them around makes everything a little better, even this."

xxx

page 57:
"The funeral director comes in with another mountain of flowers, Mom trailing him. She's crying, mascara bleeding down her face theatrically as she points to the spot where he's allowed to put the arrangement...
I'm not sure what to say. Mom's putting on a show, but that doesn't mean she's not actually sad. It's just that she isn't letting her grief get in the way of her performance.


"'I'm Sam Yu.' Sam extends his hand, leaning over so that he's in front of Daneca.
Barron shakes it. His suit is a lot nicer than mine, and his dark hair is clipped, short and tidy. He looks like the good boy he's never been.

xxx

page 58:
"A minister walks up to the lectern off to one side and then says a couple of words to my mother. I don't recognize him. Mom's not exactly the religious type, but she hugs him like she's ready to be baptized with the next bowl of water she comes across.

xxx

page 59:
"I wonder what Philip would think of his own funeral. He'd be sad that Maura couldn't even bother to bring his son to see him for the last time. He'd be embarrassed by Mom and probably pissed that I'm even here."


"'Philip Sharpe was a soldier in God's army,' says the minister. 'Now he marches with the angels.'
The words echo in my head unpleasantly.
'Philip's brother, Barron, will join me at the lectern and say a few words about his beloved departed sibling.'
Barron walks to the front and begins telling a story about him and Philip climbing a mountain together and the various meaningful things they learned about each other along the way. It's touching. It's also completely plagiarized from a book we had when we were kids."

xxx

page 64:
"I'm staring at the fabric of the bench, wondering how many people have wept on it. I'm wondering about whether the inside is crusted with salt, like a blanket that's been soaking in seawater. I'm going a little crazy."


"...'I'm not - I can't -' I shake my head to indicate the enormity of the things I can't do. For one, I can't tell her the truth about my feelings for her. For another, I'm not sure I can keep lying.

xxx

page 66:
"'Okay. Do you ever feel so angry that you think you could devour the whole world and still not be satisfied? Like you don't know how to stop feeling that way and it scares you, but that just makes you angry too?'
'I thought we weren't going to talk about my feelings,' I say, trying for lightness, because I know exactly what she means. It's like she was speaking my own thoughts aloud.
She looks at the floor, the corner of her lips tilted up. 'I'm not.'
'Yeah,' I say slowly. 'Yeah.'
'Some days I just hate everything.' She looks at me earnestly. 
'Me too,' I say.

xxx

page 67:
"Lila leans forward swiftly. Her lips are soft on my cheek. 
I close my eyes. Her breath is warm and it would only take the smallest shift of my mouth, just a slight acquiescence, for us to be kissing."

xxx

page 68:
"She starts to cry, not the loud keening from before but the quiet sobs that shake her whole body."


"The burial takes place in the rain. Barron and I share an umbrella, which means that water constantly streams down the back of my neck. Barron puts his arm over my shoulders and I lean against him for a moment, like he really is my older brother who wants to protect me. The ceremony is subdued, since all the eulogies have been given. Even my mother's tears appear to be wrung out.
Or maybe even she can't compete with the weather."

xxx

page 69:
"Mom stops me on the way out of the room. Her eyes are outlined in the gray remainder of her makeup, making them look sunken. Haunted."


"I want her away from me. I already feel too much. I can't bear feeling anything more."


"I say nothing. I don't trust myself to speak."

xxx

page 70:
"I feel better, but also worse here. Better because the memories are so close. Worse because of the memories themselves."

xxx

page 71:
"'A wonderful piece of cinema verité,' I declare. 'It is going to be my new life. And I am going to get a badge and a gun and hunt down evildoers.' I am flooded with a sense of well-being. Everything sounds perfect. Like a dream I don't want to wake from.
'Did you just say 'evildoers'?' Daneca asks, flopping onto the couch next to us. 'Did you know Betty the Butcher is upstairs? And she's wearing a gold mask. That means it's got to be true! Killing her last husband must have rotted her nose off.'
I point to the shots I have lined up. She takes one. I feel quite magnanimous. Also kind of light-headed. 'That's what I plan on calling them when I apprehend them. Evildoers, that is, not Betty. I would call only Betty by the name Betty. Well, I call her Aunt Betty, but still.

xxx

page 73:
"'Magic gives you a lot of choices,' Grandad says. 'Most of them are bad.'

xxx

page 105:
"Here's the thing about influencing a group to do what you want. It's a lot easier if what you want and what they want line up."

xxx

page 108:
"When she looks at me, I see the reflection of a different self in her eyes. Someone I long to be."


"I look at the concrete path beneath me, at the desiccated bodies of earthworms who crawled out of the ground in the rain, only to get scorched by the sun." 

xxx

page 110:
"He nods sagely. 'Get anywhere with those files?'
I shake my head. 'There goes my career in law enforcement, I guess.'
Sam snorts and starts hooking up with PlayStation to the tiny portable television he got for his birthday. "When you're done with that, you want to shoot some bad guys?'
'Evildoers,' I say. 'Yeah. Definitely.'
It should bother me to point my controller at the screen and watch pixelated guys fall over. It should remind me of Janssen or Philip and my hand should hesitate or something. I get the high score instead. After all, it's just a game."

xxx

page 116:
"'I was ready to fire up the getaway car.' Sam grins. 'Doesn't she know that muggers don't wear ties?'
I straighten my collar. 'I'm a better class of criminal. A gentleman thief, if you will.'"

xxx

page 122:
"'I'm good at what I do,' I say. 'Virtue is its own revenge.'
'It's own reward,' says Daneca, rolling her eyes. 'Virtue is its own reward.'
I grin. 'That's not the version I've heard.'"

xxx

page 124:
"'We're going to see The Giant Spider Invastion,' Sam says, 'They're playing it at the Friday Rewind. It's a classic Bill Rebane film - the special effects crew created the giant spider by covering a Volkswagen Beetle in fake fur and using the taillights as its red glowing eyes.'
'What's better than that?' I ask.
No one can think of a thing.

xxx

page 125:
"That night I dream I'm in a room of corpses, all of them wearing dresses and lipstick, sitting stiffly on couches. It takes me a moment to realize they're all my ex-girlfriends, their dead eyes glittering, their mouths barely moving as they whisper a list of my flaws.
He kisses like a fish, says my kindergarten girlfriend, Michiko Ishii. We'd meet behind a fat oak tree on the playground until we got caught by another girl who ratted us out. Her corpse is that of a very little girl; glassy eyes make her look like a doll.
He flirted with my friend, says the girl who ratted us out, Sofia Spiegel, who was technically also my girlfriend at the time.
He's a liar, says a girl from Atlantic City. The one in the silver dress.
Such a liar, says my eighth-grade girlfriend. I didn't tell her that I was going to Wallingford until after I left. I don't blame her for shill being mad.
After the party he pretended not to know me, says Emily Rogers, who, to be fair, pretended just as hard that I didn't exist after we'd spent the night rolling around on a pile of coats at Harvey Silverman's freshman-year house party.
He borrowed my car and totaled it, says Stephanie Douglas, a worker girl I met in Carney over the summer after I was sure I'd killed Lila. She was two years older than me and could knot the stem of a cherry with her tongue.
He never really loved me, says Audrey. He doesn't even know what love is.
I wake up while it's still dark outside. Rather than go back to sleep, i start on some homework. I'm tired of the dead ganging up on me. There's got to be a problem somewhere that wants solving.

xxx

page 127: 
"Wallingford Preparatory prides itself on getting its young men and women ready not just for college but for their place in society. To that end, students not only have to attend all their classes - they also have to participate in two enriching after-school activities. This year mine are track in the fall and debate club in the spring. I like the feeling of running, the rush of adrenaline and the pounding of my feet on the pavement. I like that it's just me deciding how far to push myself. 
I also like thinking up ways to trick people into agreeing with me, but debate club doesn't start for many months.

xxx

page 128:
Agent Jones and Agent Hunt are wearing mirrored sunglasses along with their dark suits and darker gloves, even though the weather is still unseasonably warm. I'm not sure they could be more unsubtle if they tried.
'Hello, Officers,' I say with a fake grin.
'Haven't heard from you in a while,' Agent Jones says. 'We got concerned.'
'Well, I had this funeral to go to, and then I had all this extra grieving to do. Really filled up my social calendar.' 

xxx

page 128:
"He's either forgotten about me or is trying to forget."

xxx

page 130:
"'I don't know,' I like. I have no idea where this line of questioning is going, but I don't like it.
'You could have a life outside of all this,' Agent Jones says. 'You could be on the right side of the law. You don't have to protect these people, Cassel.'
I am these people, I think, but his words make me fantasize for a moment about what it would be like to be a good guy, with a badge and a stainless reputation.
'We talked to your brother,' Agent Hunt says. 'He was very cooperative.'
'Barron?' I say, and burst our laughing. I let myself flop down onto the leather seat with relief. 'My brother is a compulsive liar. I'm sure he was cooperative. There is nothing he likes better than an audience.
Agent Jones looks embarrassed. Agent Hunt just seems pissed.

xxx

page 134:
"Everyone wants to get out of a situation with dignity."

xxx

page 136:
"The camera pulls back so that we can see the press pit in front of him. Lots of people in suits raising their hands like it's high school all over again, just waiting for the teacher to call on them."

xxx

page 136:
"'It's just hard to listen to,' I say, which seems to be true, since I wasn't actually listening at all.
She nods her head, but there is a pin scratch line between her brows. I wait interminable minutes until I think I can safely turn to her and say, 'Be right back..."

xxx

page 144:
"'He had a black-and-white film marathon, after which he wore a fedora.' She raises her brows, daring me to contradict her. 'For a month. In the middle of summer.'
I laugh.
'A fedora?' Sam says.
I remember sitting in the basement for hours, watching movie after movie of rough-voiced women and men in dapper suits with drinks in their gloved hands. When Lila's parents got divorced, she went to Paris with her father and came back smoking Gitanes and outlining her eyes in smudgy black kohl. It was like she'd stepped out of the movie I wanted to be in."

xxx

page 145:
"In Carney, back then, I didn't care about blending in. I wasn't constantly trying to bluff my way into seeming like a better guy. I had no secrets I was desperate to keep. And Lila was brave and sure and unstoppable.
I wonder what the kid I was then would think of the people we are now."


"There are people, too, more than I expected, and a distant roar that promises even more than that."

xxx

page 146:
"'Changing is what people do when they have no options left,' Lila says cryptically."

xxx

page 147:
"A couple more blocks and the crowd becomes so thick that it's more like a tide we have been swept up in. We're a vein rushing blood toward the heart, a furnace of sun-warmed body heat, a herd barreling toward a cliff."

xxx

page 150:
"The combination of heat and rebellion spreads like a ripple through the crowd, and suddenly bare fingers are waving in the air."

xxx

page 181:
"I can't imagine that world. I don't think I'd fit in there."


"I stand up, understanding a dismissal when I hear one."

 xxx

page 186:
"She has the blank look of shock, eyes wide. Her hand is raised protectively as if words could be warded off."

xxx

page 187:
Sam falls off his stool. I think he was trying to stand up and wasn't really thinking about it, but he winds up stumbling back as the stool crashes to the floor. His back hits the cabinet. The expression on his face is awful. He doesn't know her anymore. It cuts me to the bone because that's exactly how I'm afraid he'll look at me.

xxx

page 189:
"'I never asked you what kind of worker you are,' Same says, flinging the words at me like a challenge.
'Yeah,' I say carefully. ' And I really appreciate that.'
'If I did...' Sam pauses. "If I did, would you tell me?'
'I hope so,' I say.
He's quiet then. We lie next to each other, twin corpses waiting for the burial.

xxx

page 207:
"'A man may daydream of how he would spend a million dollars, but playing the same game with a billion dollars sours the fantasy. There are too many possibilities. The house he once wished for with all his heart is suddenly too small. The travel too cheap. He wanted to visit an island. Now he contemplates buying one. I remember you, Cassel. With all your heart you wanted to be one of us. Now you're the best of us.'"

xxx

page 214:
"Power does not consist in striking hard or often, but in striking true."

xxx

page 217:
"Today she's talking about the principle of momentum and how hard it is to stop something once it has been set in motion."

xxx

page 218:
"'No, you didn't,' I say. 'That's why you lied to him.'
'Well, I was right, wasn't I?' she asks plaintively. She wants to be contradicted.
'I don't know,' I say.

xxx

page 218:
"'... Everyone likes a little power, especially people who feel powerless.'

xxx

page 233:
"Most people never report being conned, for three reasons. The first reason is that con artists don't usually leave a lot of evidence. If you don't really know who did this to you, there's no point in reporting them. The second reason is that usually you, the mark, agreed to do something shady. If you report the con artist, you have to report yourself along with him. But the third reason is the simplest and most compelling. Shame. You're the dummy who got conned.
No one wants to look stupid. No one wants to be thought of as gullible. So they hid how dumb and gullible they were. Con artists barely have to cover up at all, with marks so eager to cover up for them.

xxx

page 238:
"... I feel unsteady. The world has already tilted. I can feel myself falling."

xxx

page 244:
"I open my mouth to bargain with her, but I feel suddenly undone by despair. I am like a clockwork automaton whose gears just locked."

xxx

page 246:
"No matter how solid she feels in my arms, she is made of smoke."

xxx

page 252:
"It's just a matter of time."
Even in the light of day, the thought feels no less true.
Temptation is tempting.

xxx

page 253:
Life's full of opportunities to make crappy decisions that feel good. And after the first one, the rest get a whole lot easier."

xxx

page 255:
"The trees shake with a sudden gust of wind, and a few still-green maple leaves fall around me. I toe one with my booted foot. It doesn't look it, but it's already dead."

xxx

page 261:
"My shirt is still wet with her tears."

xxx

page 265:
"'When it rains, it pours,' Sam says."

xxx

page 268:
"Lies work when they're simple. They usually work a lot better than the truth does. The truth is messy. It's raw and uncomfortable. You can't blame people for preferring lies."

xxx

page 272:
"The concern in her voice is real enough to break my heart."


"'Baby,' she says in a harsh whisper, 'in this world, lots of people will try to grind you down. They need you to be small so they can be big. You let them think whatever they want, but you make sure you get yours. You get yours.'"

xxx

page 273:
"Waking up in the middle of the day always leaves you with a slightly dazed feeling, as though you've stepped out of time. The light outside the windows is wrong."

xxx

page 274:
"Gifts are very useful to con men. Gifts create a feeling of debt, an itchy anxiety that the recipient is eager to be rid of by repaying. So eager, in fact, that people will often overpay just to be relieved of it. A single spontaneously given cup of coffee can make a person feel obligated to sit through a lecture on a religion they don't care about. The gift of a tiny, wilted flower can make the recipient give to a charity they dislike. Gifts place such a heavy burden that even throwing away the gift doesn't remove the debt. Even if you hate coffee, even if you didn't want that flower, once you take it, you want to give something back. Most of all, you want to dismiss the obligation.

xxx

page 275:
"I like to think it's the gratitude that makes her overgenerous, but I guess I'll never know. That's the problem with not trusting people - you never find out if they'd have helped you on their own.

xxx

page 280:
"If I can resist this, I don't think I will have any resistance left."

xxx

page 300:
"'I hide my inner pain under my stoic visage.'"

xxx

page 303:
"'No trouble ever got fixed late at night,' he said. 'Midnight is for regrets.'"

xxx

page 307:
"So what if I led the horse directly to water, I tell myself. It's not like I made him drink."

xxx

page 308:
"The night air is like a slap in the face. It seems too early in the season for the temperature to have dropped so abruptly. Maybe it's just colder at three in the morning."

xxx

page 315:
"'Death messes you up...'"

xxx

page 325:
"I remind myself that this is what I wanted. When that doesn't work, I tell myself that I can survive on memories. The smell of Lila's skin, the way her eyes shine with mischief, the low rasp of her voice. It hurts to think of her, but I can't stop. It ought to hurt.
After all, hell is supposed to be hot."

le book review number twelve~ the fault in our stars

author: John Green
title: the fault in our stars
star rating: 6/5

John Green is an absolutely beautiful author, so when I received this as a Christmas gift on pre-order, I was extremely excited. It arrived yesterday, so I sat down and read it. From front to back in approximately 5 and a half hours.

As for interests sake, the main character is a 16 year old girl named Hazel who has cancer. However, this book is not just about a 16 year old girl with cancer. This book is filled with so many extraordinary moments that I find unbelievably amazing and beauty.

I loved the characters, I adored his writing and vocabulary and everything was filled with emotion and believability. I cannot name one fault at all with this book.

and since this book is filled with utter perfection, this will be a very short review.

the one thing that has no fault of anyone but me is that i can say i'm disappointed i don't have john green's scribble in it.

one last thing to mention is the whole darn book was so quotable.

le book review number eleven~ specials

Title: Specials
Author: Scott Westerfeld
Star Rating: 4/5 stars

This is the third and last book of the trilogy (although not the last book of the series because Extras is still out there. I haven't decided whether I'll read it yet though.)

Tally still frustrated me. Although she's the main character, I can honestly say she's not the easiest to relate to. At times I feel like she should just stop being so annoying. There wasn't a lot involving other characters in this book, it was mainly about her. Which the specials are brainwashed to only think of herself, it is very apparent how self-centered she became.

I did give the book 4/5 stars because Scott Westerfeld has a beautiful way of writing. Tally wasn't the greatest main character, but his writing and plot where interesting and unique enough that that's the only thing I really disliked about the book.

I thought Shay was still the most "icy" character. Zane deserved so much more than Tally could see. David wasn't as prominent as I thought he would have been (but it has been awhile since I read pretties and uglies) so that might just be the time lapse causing my brain to mix things up a bit.

In terms of recommendations, I'd recommend the series based on plot and his writing But based on characters, I still felt Shay was more interesting and and Tally was a bit on the annoying side.

I chose not to do any memorable moments from this book so it's just the review today.

le book review number ten~ white cat

Title: White Cat
Author: Holly Black
Stars: 5/5

I really loved reading this book. Cassel, a beautiful name, combined with other gorgeous names made this a stunning read. When I first saw the book at the library, i looked to the back cover. My first thought was the two guys on the back would make a perfect couple and I really, desperately, became obsessed that something along those lines would happen. Unfortunately, nothing came of it.

However, what did come of it was something I really loved.

The characters are splendidly believable and Cassel (protagonist) has a voice of many teenage gentlemen in a very traditional, authority figure household. I like how I could relate even though I'm a girl. I found the story to be captivating; the thought of gloves being so involved to prevent the possibility of having gifts and powers used against you gave the plot many twists and turns that although they didn't surprise me as much as I would have liked, they just fit perfectly. I loved the writing style and description.

I wasn't as fond of the girl characters. I think through the eyes of Cassel, they were exactly what I would expect, but as characters, I didn't love them as much as Philip and Barron.

The vocabulary was beautiful, characters were beautiful, Cassel's mind was beautiful and I am definitely going to read the second book.

Yes, I'd recommend it.

Memorable Moments number five~ white cat

Review for White Cat by Holly Black will come tomorrow.

le memorable moments:

dedication:

"For all the fictional cats I've killed in other books."

xxx

page 1:

"I have no memory of climbing the stairs up to the roof. I don't even know how to get where I am, which is a problem since I'm going to have to get down, ideally in a way that doesn't involve dying."

xxx

page 1&2:

"The night is quiet, the kind of hushed middle-of-the-night quiet that makes every shuffle or nervous panting breath echo."

xxx

page 2:

"Cold makes my fingers numb. The adrenaline rush makes my brain sing."

xxx

page 7:

"'But I didn't do anything wrong.'

Which is stupid, of course. Things don't happen to people because they deserve them. Besides, I've doe plenty wrong."

xxx

page 9:

"I like to think we're sort of friends.

We don't hang out with many of the same people, which makes being sort of friends easier."

xxx

page 11:

"I grin. 'You're the most untrustworthy guy I know.'

'Flattery will get you every," Sam says. 'Except, apparently, off a roof.'"

xxx

page 12:

"Real bookies take a percentage, relying on a balanced book to guarantee a profit. Like, if someone puts don't five bucks on a fight, they're really putting down four fifty and the other fifty cents is going to the bookie. The bookie doesn't care who wins; he only cares that the odds work so he can use the money from the losers to pay the winners. I'm not a real bookie. Kids at Wallingford want to bet on silly stuff, stuff that might never come true. They have money to burn. So some of the time I calculate the odds the right way - the real bookie way - and some of the time I calculate the odds my way and just hope I get to pocket everything instead of paying out what I can't afford. You could say that I'm gambling too. You'd be right." 

page 14:

"It was my mother who taught me that if you're going to screw someone over - with magic and wit, or wit alone - you have to know the mark better than he knows himself.

The first thing you have to do is gain his confidence. Charm him. Just be sure he thinks he's smarter than you are. The you - or ideally, your partner - suggest the score.

Let your mark get something right up front the first time. In the business that's called the "convincer." When he knows he's already got money in his pocket and can walk away, that's when he relaxes his guard.

The second go is when you introduce bigger stakes. The big score. This is the part my mother never has to worry about. As an emotion worker, she can make anyone trust her. But she still needs to go through the steps, so that later, when they think back on it, they don't figure out she worked them.

After that there's only the blow-off and the getaway.

Being a con artist means thinking that you're smarter than everyone else and that you've thought of everything. That you can get away with anything. That you can con anyone.

I wish I could say that I don't think about the con when I deal with people, but the difference between me and my mother is that I don't con myself."

xxx

page 20:

"'My mother wants to talk with you. She says that what you did was a cry for help.'

'It was,' I say. 'That's why I was yelling 'Heeeelp!' I don't really go in for subtlety.'"

xxx

page 22:

"Above the trees, their leaves the pale green of new buds, bats weave through the still-bright sky. The air is heavy with the smell of crushed grass, threaded through with smoke. Somewhere someone's burning the wet, half-decomposed foliage of winter.

xxx

page 29:

"'Sometimes,' Sam says, "I can't tell when you're lying.'

'I never lie,' I lie."

xxx

page 31:

"On the way out to the car, Philip turns to me. 'How could you be so stupid?

I shrug, stung in spite of myself. 'I thought I grew out of it.'

Philip pulls out his key fob and presses the remote to unlock his Mercedes. I slide into the passenger side, brushing coffee cups off the seat and onto the floor mat, where crumpled printouts from MapQuest soak up any spilled liquid.

'I hope you mean sleepwalking,' Philip says, 'since you obviously didn't grow out of stupid.'"

xxx

page 36:

"'That's because you're a romantic,' she said. 'Guys are romantic - no, really. Girls are pragmatic.'

'That's not true,' I told her, but sometimes, after we started dating, I wondered if she was right."

xxx

page 37&38:

"'Can I come stay with you?' I ask. Barron's at Princeton, studying pre-law, which is pretty funny because he is a compulsive liar. He's the kind of liar who totally forgets what he told you the last time, but he believes every single lie with such conviction that sometimes he can convince you of it. I don't think he'll last half a minute in court before he'll make up something outrageous about his client.

'I'd have to ask my roommate,' he says. 'She's dating this ambassador, and he's always sending a car to take her to New York. She might not want more stress.'

Yeah, like that.

'Well, if she's not there a lot, maybe she won't mind. Otherwise, maybe I can do some couch surfing.' I lay it on thick. 'There's always the bus stop.'

'Why can't you stay with Philip?'

'He's farming me out to Grandad to clean the old house. He hasn't said so, but I don't think he wants me here.'

'Don't be paranoid,' Barron says. 'Philip wants you there. Of course he does.'

'Philip would have wanted Barron.

"When I was about seven, I used to follow a thirteen-year-old Philip around the house, pretending we were superheroes. He was the main hero and I was his sidekick, the Robin to his Batman. I kept pretending to be in trouble so he could come and save me. When I was in the old sandbox, it was a giant hourglass that would smother me. I was in the leaky baby pool being chased by sharks. I would call and call for him, but it was always Barron who finally came.

He was already Philip's real sidekick at ten, good for taking care of things that Philip was too busy for. Like me. I spent most of my childhood jealous of Barron. I wanted to be him, and I resented that he got to be him first.

That was before I realized I was never going to be him.

'Maybe I could just come for a few days.' I say.

'Sure, sure,' he says, but it's not a commitment. It's stalling. 'So, tell me what this crazy dream you had was. What made you go up on the root?'

I snort. 'A cat stole my tongue and I wanted to get it back.'

He laughs. 'Your brain is in a dark place. Next time, just let the tongue go, kid.'

I hate being called a kid, but I don't want to argue."

xxx

page 39:

"I don't want to tell her that Philip probably doesn't want me alone in the house with her or his song because of Lila. Philip saw my face, saw the blood, got rid of the body. If I was him, I wouldn't want me here either."

xxx

page 40:

"I might be a member of the family, but I am always going to be an outsider."

xxx

page 42:

"She looks too thin. Her collarbones seem like knives threatening to slice through her skin. 'The music's so loud tonight. I'm afraid I won't be able to hear the baby.'

'Don't worry,' I say softly. 'He must be sleeping like - well, like a baby.' I smile, even though I know the joke's lame. 

xxx

page 43:

"'You're not a good liar. Philip's good, but not you.'

'Hey, ' I say, honestly offended. 'I am an excellent liar. I am the finest liar in the history of liars.'

'Liar,' she says, a slow smile spreading across her face. 'Why did your parents call you Cassel?'

I'm defeated and amused. 'Mom loved extravagant names. Dad insisted that his first son be named after him - Philip - but after that, she got to name Barron and me whatever fanciful thing she wanted. It she'd had her way, Philip would have been Jasper.'

She rolls her eyes. 'Come on. Are you sure they aren't from her family? Traditional names?'

'Who knows? It's all a mystery..."

xxx

page 44:

Every kind of curse gives off some kind of blowback, but death curses kill a part of you. If you're lucky, it rots some of your fingers. If not, maybe it rots your lungs or heart. Every curse works the worker, my grandfather says.

xxx

page 52:

"I sit down on the ripped cushion of our couch. I wonder what she thinks of the house and if she's going to say anything about it or about my grandfather. When I was a kid and brought friends over, I was defiantly proud of the chaos. I liked that I knew how to jump over the piles and shattered glass while they stumbled. Now it just seems like an ocean of crazy that I have no way to explain.

"I press my eyes shut hard, press my fingers over them until I see nothing but black. Until I push the images away. When I was Audrey's boyfriend, I thought by making her like me, by making her think I was like everyone else, I'd become like everyone else."

xxx

page 53:

"She doesn't push me away. I consider kissing her right there on the dirty couch, but some instinct of self-preservation stops me. Once someone's hurt you, it's harder to relax around them, harder to think of them as safe to love. But it doesn't stop you from wanting them. Sometimes I actually think it makes the wanting worse."

"I imagine crushing her throat in my hands and am relieved to be horrified. I feel guilty when I think of killing girls, but it's the only way I know to test myself, to make sure that whatever terrible thing is inside of me isn't about to get out."

xxx

page 69:

"'Good work, sweetie.' And I realized that the reason she had taken me instead of my brothers was just that I was the smallest, but it didn't bother me, because I also realized that I could be useful. That I didn't need to be a worker to be useful. That I could be good at things, better than they were, even.

That knowledge sang through my veins like adrenaline."

xxx

page 70:

"I try not to rub my fingers against my jeans as I walk into the reception area and up to the desk.

The woman answering the phone has dyed red curls and glasses hanging around her neck on a beaded chain. I wonder if she made the chain herself; irrationally I associate crafting with friendliness."

xxx

page 90:

"'The coast is clear,' he says. 'The eagle has flown the coop. The cow stands alone.'

I can't help smiling as I dig out the money from my pocket. ' You are a master of deception.'

xxx

page 91:

"'I take back anything I might have implied to the contrary. Sam, you are a genius.'"

"All friendships are negotiations of power."

xxx

page 93:

"I can't trust the people I care about not to hurt me. And I'm not sure I can trust myself not to hurt them, either.

Friendships suck."

xxx

page 96:

"Memory is slippery. It bends to our understanding of the world, twists to accommodate our prejudices. It is unreliable. Witnesses seldom remember the same things. They identify the wrong people. They give us the details of the events that never happened. Memory is slippery, but my memories suddenly feel slipperier."

xxx

page 104:

"... Family is the most important thing. There is no one who will love you like your family."

xxx

page 106:

"Lie until even you believe it - that's the real secret of lying. The only way to have absolutely no tells." 

xxx

page 119:

"My memories are full of shadows, and no amount of chasing them around my head seems to make them any more substantial."

xxx

page 121&122:

"'Just like your brothers. You know what they used to say about boys like you? Clever as the devil and twice as pretty.'"

xxx

page 142:

"I look up at the stars again. No one ever taught me the constellations, so to me they are all just bright dots. Chaos. No pattern at all. When I was a kid, I made up a constellation, but I couldn't find it a second time.

xxx

page 146:

"'Well, it is. It was. It was mine.' I am confusing myself. I am forgetting the basics of lying. Keep it simple. The truth is complicated, which is why no one ever believes it over a halfway decent lie."

"'Am I not dressed rich enough?' Sam asks, leaning back so that we can appreciate the full glory of his suit. 'Don't be drinking the Haterade.'"

'You look crazy,' I say, shaking my head.

xxx

page 154:

"Mom says that because she can make people feel what she wants them to, she knows how they think. She says that if I was liker her, I'd have the instinct too. Maybe being a worker tempts you to be all mystical, but I think mom knows about people because she watches faces very closely. There're these looks people get that last less than a second - micro-expressions, they call them, fleeting clues that reveal a lot more than we wish. I think my mother sees them without even noticing. I see them too.

xxx

page 208:

"I walk downstairs, cradling my ribs half-unconsciously. I stumble. Nothing feels right. My skin doesn't fit. I am Humpty Dumpty. All the king's horses and all the king's men have failed to put me back together again."

xxx

page 229:

"'Absence diminishes little passions and increases great ones.'"

xxx

page 235&236:

"'Um, your brothers? They make people disappear. That's what they do."

'They kill people?' My voice comes out too loud. I don't know why I'm shocked. I know criminals do bad things, and I get that my brothers are criminals. I had just assumed that whatever Philip did for Anton was small time. Leg-breaking stuff.

Lila frowns at me and looks around the train, but even after my outburst no one seems interested in us. Her voice goes low, to practically a whisper, like she can make up for my mistake through overcompensation.

xxx

page 236:

"'They've been using you as a human garbage disposal.' She makes a frame with her hands and looks at me through it. 'Portrait of a teenage assassin.'"

"We are, largely, who we remember ourselves to be. That's why habits are so hard to break. If we know ourselves to be liars, we expect not to tell the truth. If we think of ourselves as honest, we try harder."

xxx

page 237:

"But now the pile of corpses teeters above me, threatening to crash down and suffocate me with guilt.

All my life I wanted my brothers to trust me. To let me in on their secrets. I wanted them, Philip especially, to think of me as a worthy accomplice.

Even after they kicked the crap out of me, my instinct was to try and save them. 

Now I just want revenge.

After all, I'm already a murderer. No one really expects a murderer to stop killing... I don't want to be a monster, but maybe it's too late to be anything else."

xxx

page 292:

"The easiest lies to tell are the ones you want to be true."

xxx

page 299:

"'They say Friday,' he says. 'But they've already changed the date twice, so I don't know how seriously to take it. But I guess we should get a cake or something, in case. Worst case scenario: We eat the cake anyway.'

Memory is funny. Barron seems relaxed, like he really likes me, because he doesn't remember hating me. Or maybe he remembers the feeling of dislike but he assumes that he liked me more than he hated me. But I'm not relaxed. I can't stop remembering."

"'What do you think is the first thing she's going to do when she gets out?' I ask.

'Meddle,' he says, and laughs. 'What do you think? She's going to start trying to get everything to go the way she wants it to go. And we all better pray that's the way we want it to go too.'"

xxx

page 309&310:

"The most important thing for any con artist is never to think like a mark. Marks figure they're going to get a deal on a stolen handbag, then they get upset when the lining falls out. They think they're going to get front row tickets for next to nothing off a guy standing out in the rain, then they're surprised when the tickets are just pieces of wet paper.

Marks think they can get something from nothing.

Marks think they can get what they don't deserve and could never deserve.

Marks are stupid and pathetic and sad.

Marks think they're going to go home on night and have the girl they've loved since they were a kid suddenly love them back.

Marks forget that whenever something's too good to be true, that's because it's a con."

le book review number nine~ a million little pieces

Book title: a million little pieces
Author: James Frey
Star rating: 3/5 stars.

When I originally intended to read the book, I thought it was actually his memoir because I read a few quotes online that were from the book. I started reading it at the library to see if it was as good as the quotes led me to believe. I checked it out and the librarian and I got talking about how it was not actually true. My opinion of this book is based solely on the content not about the author.

As you can see, I have a lot of memorable moments (located in the post below) from this book. I found the vocabulary and description to be very intense, beautiful, and thought provoking. But all of the words strung together makes for only about a decent book. I liked it, but didn't fall in love with it. The story moved along well enough and the characters were real enough and believable enough based on judgement of that they are only characters.

What the book is about:
James is an alcoholic, a drug addict, a Criminal. He has lost. He feels lost. He goes to a rehab center to recover. To figure out his life. The book is his story. It introduces the reader to the people he encounters, the people that suffer from the same things he suffers from and it tells the story of people at their lowest trying to rise.

The demons that James is forced to deal with are portrayed in a artistic way. His addictions have been prominent before he even entered teenage years. His alcoholism and drug addiction seem to have a lighter effect based through the character. There was repetition of phrases and words in paragraphs. This focus to certain aspects expressed an almost addiction to thoughts and ideas.

The middle of the book seemed to be where I didn't like it as much. The recovery process seemed to lack the character. I felt that he was changing, like he was supposed to, but that the new character wasn't what I had expected and wanted. I understand it was written as a memoir (although it is not true), but the development to me seemed that the lie could have been more deeply created.

As an overall book, I did enjoy it and would recommend it for a read. I would not purchase the book because I don't think I'd want to read it multiple times, but I would recommend it. However, I caution readers due to the strong language and subject matter.

Memorable Moments number four~ a million little pieces

beginning of book: 

The Young Man came to the Old Man seeking counsel.

I broke something, Old Man.

How badly is it broken?

It's in a million little pieces.

I'm afraid I can't help you.

Why?

There's nothing you can do.

Why?

It can't be fixed.

Why?

It's broken beyond repair. It's in a million little pieces.

xxx

page 5:

"...and at a certain point blackness comes and my memory fails me."

xxx

page 11:

"I am blinded by blackness."

xxx

page 12:

"I sit in the chair by the window staring. I don't know what I'm staring at and I don't care. It's dark and it's late and I can't sleep anymore."

xxx

page 13:

"I watch the television. Everything slows down. Slows down beyond recognition.

The image blurs and a symphony of withered voices. I stare at the lights, listen to the voices. I want them to go away and they won't."

xxx

page 20:

"I can feel blood dripping from the wounds on my face and I can feel my heart beating and I can feel the weight of my life beginning to drop and I realize why dawn is called mourning."

xxx

page 21:

"Although it hurts, it feels good... It hurts but I deserve it."

xxx

page 21&22:

"I'm scared to see myself...

Scared of the hate that my own image can conjure."

xxx

page 22:

"I almost feel human."

xxx

page 25&26:

"I think about the ruin, devastation and wreckage I have caused to myself and to others. I think about self-hatred and self-loathing. I think about how and why and what happened and the thoughts come easily, but the answers don't."

xxx

page34:

"The weather has gotten worse. Black clouds fill the Sky and patches of snow gather along the Ground. What once was green is brown. What once had leaves now has none. It's cold and it's winter and the World has gone to sleep."

xxx

page 35:

"Looks like that might be an understatement.

Looks are not deceiving."

xxx

page 36:

"...he nods and I nod and for a brief second I feel strong. Not strong enough to face myself, but strong enough to keep going."

xxx

page 40&41:

"It hurts, but I want the pain because it makes this nightmare a reality and it keeps me from going insane. The pain is immense, but I need it because it keeps me from going insane."

xxx

page 44:

"I hang up the phone and I stare at the floor and I think about my Mother and my Father in a Hotel Room in Chicago and I wonder why they still love me and why I can't love them back and how two normal stable people could have created something like me, lived with something like me and tolerated something like me. I stare at the floor and I wonder. How did they tolerate me."

xxx

page 45:

"At a certain point my eyes close and at a certain point I fall asleep."

xxx

page 46:

"For the briefest instant I feel complete. The pain I carry with me disappears. I feel comfortable and at rest, confident and secure, calm and composed. I feel good. G------ it, I feel f------ good."

xxx

page 47:

" I lean over and place my nose just above the shimmering surface of the gasoline and I stare into the face of chemical annihilation. This face is my friend, my enemy and my only option. I take it."

"I'm scared and I'm alone and it's early in the morning and no one is away yet."

xxx

page 48:

"He's gone. Definitely gone and definitely not coming back."

xxx

page 54:

"And then you attacked Roy.

I turn, stare back.

Roy got in my face. I got him out of my face."

xxx

page 57:

"I look at no one and acknowledge no one. I'm in my head and in my head I'm alone. I'm trying to decide what I'm going to do."

xxx

page 61:

"We pull into a town and it is empty. There are no parked cars, no shoppers, no young Mothers walking with Children, no old men on benches with coffee and words of wisdom. The Stores are open, but they're not doing business. The only things out are thunder and sleet and wind. They are getting stronger."

xxx

page 65:

"... and it feels as if my mouth is full of soft fibrous dirt and almost instantly, everything is dry."

xxx

page 62:

"There is a surgical chair sitting in the middle of the floor. It is metal and it has green cushions and long menacing arms and all sorts of straps and buttons and levers and gears. It looks like a medieval torture device. I know it is for me."

xxx

page 66:

"...and my heart beats even and strong as if it needs the test of this ordeal to prove that it works correctly."

"I prepare for more but I'm not prepared for what hits me."

"The electric pain shoots and it shoots at a trillion volts and it is white and burning... The pain is greater than anything I've ever felt and it is greater than anything I could have imagined. It overwhelms every muscle and every fiber and every cell in my body and everything goes limp."

"Every fiber and every cell is limp...

Every fiber and every cell is white hot and burning...

The pain is greater than I could have imagined."

xxx

page 67:

The stuffing buffers the open pain of the hole and the piercing pain fades and a dull throbbing agony remains and my heart beats strong and steady and the agony beats along with it and it doesn't bother me. I have lived with agony for so long that as it beats along with my strong and steady heart, it doesn't bother me."

xxx

page 69:

"There is a tennis ball in each of my hands and there is the knowledge that I'm about to undergo a dual root-canal procedure without any anesthesia. There is the sound of my eart beating ever more quickly. There is anticipation. There is fear. There is no comfort."

"... a current shoots through my body that is not pain, or even close to pain, but something infinitely greater."

"My brain is white and it feels as if it's f------ melting. I cannot breath. Agony."

"I start to fade into a state of white consciousness where I am no longer directly connected to what is being done to me. My arms are no longer my arms, my legs are not my legs, my chest is not my chest, my face is not my face, my teeth do not belong to me. My body is no longer my body. There is white. Everywhere there is white. There is agony. It is agony that is unfathomable. I try to will myself back to reality..."

xxx

page 70:

"My body won't let me come back. It is as if it is sparing my mind what it can and pushing into a realm that is horrible, but somehow less horrible. I give up and I give in and I am consumed by the whiteness and the agony and I am there for what seems to be eternity. The whiteness and the agony. The whiteness and the agony. The whiteness and the agony."

"...and every single cell of my body feels as if it is going to explode from the force of the pain. If there was a God, I would spit in his face for subjecting me to this. If there was a Devil, I would sell him my soul to make it end. If there was something Higher than controlled our individual fates, I would tell it to take my fate..."

"All I can do is endure."

xxx

page 71:

"I have always deal with pain alone. I will deal with it alone now."

xxx

page 72:

"I look like a f------ monster."

"We are two men who have just been through a terrible ordeal together. Although it was worse for me, I know it wasn't easy for him. This hug is our bond, our bond to learn from what we have just been through and become better and stronger because of it. I know he will keep the bond, I don't know if I can. I pull away."

xxx

page 73:

"I turn and I slowly walk away and I don't look back. It has always been a fault of mine, but it is the way I am. I never look back. Never."

"Each step is more difficult than the last, each step hurts more. My face is throbbing to the rhythm of my heart, the rhythm of my heart is not as strong or as steady as it was. It is speeding up and slowing down, beating with irregular strength, sending sharp messages through my left arm and my jaw. It held when it needed to hold, but it's not going to hold much longer. I'm not going to hold much longer."

xxx

page 74:

"This is not the life I want or who I want to be but I don't know anything else. I have tried to change before and I have failed. I have tried to change again and again and again and I have failed over and over and over. If there was something to make me think this time would be different, I would try, but there isn't. If there was a light at the end of the tunnel I would run to it. I am worse than I have ever been before. If there was a light at the end of the tunnel I would run to it... There is no light at the end of the tunnel.

"...and I'm tired beyond exhaustion and I close my eyes. It it dark. I close my eyes. There is no light at the end of the tunnel. I close my eyes. It is dark. I close my eyes. There's no light. I close my eyes. Dark.

I close my eyes.

I close my eyes.

I close my eyes."

xxx

page 77:

It moves on to the story of Bill, who is the founder of AA. Bill is the Jesus Christ of the movement, the Savior, the Messiah, and although Bill did not die on the cross, he certainly lived on it. 

xxx

page 79:

" I deserve this hurt for not being brave enough to look at myself. I deserve this hurt and I will stand and I will take it because I am not brave enough to look into my own eyes."

"The burning is tiring and the cold tires me more. I close my eyes and I let my body shut itself down and I let my mind wander. It wanders to a familiar place. A place I don't talk about of acknowledge it exists. A place where there is only me. A place that I hate."

xxx

page 80:

"At first I made an effort to fit in, but I couldn't pretend, and after a few weeks, I stopped trying. I am who I am and they could either like me or hate me. They hated me..."

xxx

page 85:

"It feels as if my body is trying to rid itself of itself. It is trying to rid itself of me."

xxx

page 94:

"That is what I am and who I am and that is how I should be remembered. No happy lies, no invented memories, no fake sentimentality, no tears. I do not deserve tears. I deserve to be portrayed honestly and I deserve nothing more and I start to write an honest obituary in my own mind. I write the obituary that should appear, but never will. I start at the beginning and I stick to the facts and I move to what I know will be my end."

xxx

page 95:

"In my mind, my obituary is done. It is done and it is right. It tells the truth, and as awful as it can be, the truth is what matters. It is what I should be remembered by, if I am remembered at all. Remember the truth. It is all that matters."

"I have made my decision and I am comfortable with my decision. It's what I always knew would happen, though the details are just now coming into focus."

"I am going to leave here and I'm not going to look back and I'm not going to say good-bye. I have lived alone, I have fought alone, I have dealt with pain alone. I will die alone."

xxx

page 96:

"I touch the skin on my neck, my chest, my arms. It will all be rotting soon. Decomposing and disintegrating. Disappearing. Every trace will cease to exist. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. We return from which we came. I will be rotting and decomposing and disintegrating soon."

xxx

page 99:

"The men who don't believe in amends are the worst of the group. They know that most of what they have done shouldn't be forgiven and won't be forgiven. They don't want to make the effort of asking because the pain of rejection and the reminder of their actions will hurt too much. They want to move on and forget, even though forgetting is impossible... I know I won't be forgiven and I'm not going to bother to ask. My amends will be my death. No one I have hurt will ever have to see me, hear from me, or think about me ever again. I won't be able to damage them or f--- up their lives anymore, I won't be able to cause them the pain I have caused previously. Forget me if you can. Forget i ever existed, forget I did whatever it was I did. My suicide will be my apology. Even though it is impossible, please forget me. Please forget."

xxx

page 101:

"Though I doubt we would talk much, it would be nice to hold each of their hands, tell them that I'm sorry... Though I doubt we would talk much, I would like to tell them to forget me."

xxx

page 102:

"...and I will stay there until I die. Before I do, however, I want one last look at something beautiful. I want one last look so that I have something to hold in my mind while I'm dying, so that when I take my last breath I will be able to think of something that will make me smile, so in the midst of that horror I can hold on to some shred of humanity."

"I am going to die. When I die I will be dead, gone, no more. There will be no more thinking, no more breathing, no more feeling of any kind. There will be blackness and the blackness will be eternal. There will be silence and the silence will last forever. I am going to die."

xxx

page 104:

"I have lived alone. I am about to die alone."

xxx

page 108:

"There is truth in his eyes. Truth is all that matters."

xxx

page 116:

"The stitches are old and black...and they look like barbed wire... The stitches are black and they weave in and out of one another like a vicious fence.

xxx

page 125:

"Part of me still loves. More of me doesn't."

xxx

page 127:

"It was an awful time and her friend was in awful shape, but she got better and she is still better today. The memories are bittersweet."

xxx

page 165:

"Open mind, empty mind. I wonder if they're the same thing."

xxx

page 169:

"I think you're stronger than you know."

xxx

page 173:

"I lost everything and I am lost reduced to a mass of mourning, sadness, grief, anguish and heartache. I am lost. I have lost. Everything. Everything."

xxx

page 179:

"I skip the Introduction. If the book goes in the trash, I want it to go because of my thoughts on it, not because of some A------'s thoughts on who wrote the Introduction."

xxx

page 185:

"If I was where she was I stared at her. I wanted to talk to her, but I didn't. Never hello, never how are you, never what's up, never what's new, I never said a word, I just stared at her. After a while I knew that she knew I was doing it, but she never told me to stop. I just stared."

"If she hadn't come back, I would have left to find her. She was away away and if she hadn't come back, I would have searched to the end of the Earth. I would have searched until I found her."

xxx

page 186&187:

"I took a deep breath.

The first time I saw you, my heart fell. The second time I saw you, my heart fell. The third time fourth time fifth time and every time since, my heart has fallen.

I stared at her.

You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Your hair, your eyes, your lips, your body that you haven't grown into, the way you walk, smile, laugh, the way your cheeks drop when you're mad or upset, the way you drag your feet when you're tired. Every single thing about you is beautiful.

I stared at her.

When I see you the World stops. It stops and all that exists for me is you and my eyes staring at you. There's nothing else. No noise, no other people, no thoughts or worries, no yesterday, no tomorrow. The World just stops, and it is a beautiful place, and there is only you. Just you, and my eyes staring at you.

I stared.

When you're gone, the World starts again, and I don't like it as much. I can live in it, but I don't like it. I just walk around in it and wait to see you again and wait for it to stop again. I love it when it stops. It's the best f------ thing I've ever known or ever felt, the best thing, and that, beautiful Girl, is why I stare at you."

xxx

page 187&188:

"I listen to the tick of an unseen clock marking moments of time long passed. It takes me the tick and it holds me and it carries and keeps me like a slow swing of a pendulum before the eyes of an idiot. The World has stopped not like before and not in a good way. It has stopped and is not going forward the same way my life has stopped and is not going forward. If is not going forward or backward or anywhere at all it has just stopped. It has just stopped."

xxx

page 188:

"I am surviving."

"The dark shifts away from itself and light invades and conquers it."

xxx

page 193:

"It is a strong shaking sobbing wracking weeping, the weeping that comes form a wound that will never heal. I let him weep, leave him be with his memories and his loss and his pain. I would offer him comfort, but it wouldn't matter. The wounds that never heal can only be mourned alone."

xxx

page210:

"I stare at me but not me. I see the damage and pain of hard years. I see the emptiness and desperation of existence without hope. I see a young life that has been too long. I see me, but not me. I trust myself."

xxx

page 211:

"It is a deep smile, not the type of momentary happiness, but the rare kind that comes when something inside without words is woken up from slumber and brought forth to live. Though I know it will disappear from her face, it will stay in her and with her long after it does. It has woken and it will live."

xxx

page 229:

"Noise destroying silence, silence overwhelming noise. Reflections slowly move along the water distorting what is real the object or the image. They are both real and it is all real. It all is in front of me life is in front of me and behind me and above me below me surrounding me. I can see it and feel it and hear it and touch it. Inside and outside. Right now."

xxx

page 231:

"She smiles. It's a sweet, subtle smile. The type of smile that would break your heart if you stared at it too long."

xxx

page 259:

"There are awkward smiles and frustrated sighs."

xxx

page 264:

"He pulls her in tight, reassuring her through his arms."

xxx

page 265:

"I want to get for their forgiveness, but it's not going to happen. I want to take their hands and tell them everything is going to be okay, but that's not a promise I know I can make. 

xxx

page 266:

"I am alone and the Fury is within me. It is not raging, nor near it's height, but it is there. It flows though my veins like a slow, lazy virus, urging me to do damage, but not enough damage to constitute destruction."

xxx

page 272:

"In the shadows I am safe and I am strong and I am comfortable. I know I won't get caught in the shadows."

xxx

page 316:

"This Girl who has been through things of which she cannot speak. This Girl with nothing. This Girl with nothing but her own strength and a desire to be free. With nothing but a beating heart that is scared to be alone. With nothing but clear blue eyes that see through me and understand me. With nothing but open arms ready to receive me. To stand by me. To walk with me. To love me. I love her. Lilly. The Girl with nothing and everything. Lilly. I love her.

"Words can't say this. The one word love means too little for what it is. It means everything and that is still not enough. It doesn't communicate even a fraction of the feelings involved. Love. The word is not enough for what is is. Love. Love."

xxx

page 332:

"All of us started out normal. All of us started out as functioning human beings with the potential to do almost anything we wanted, but somewhere along the paths of our lives, we got lost."

xxx

page 345:

"I'm not going to stay in a place where A------- like you say that their Job is to help People, but when someone needs help most, you deny it to them because they believe in something different than you or need a different kind of help than what you think is right."

xxx

page 358:

"I would give my life if it could somehow make her better. I would have given it earlier tonight, I would give it in the future. If it would make any difference, I would give her my life. I know it won't make a difference. I cry."

xxx

page 361:

"The dreams are real, or as real as dreams can be, and in them I see and I hear and I feel and I touch. Inside and out. Images like running film, sounds like a stereo."

xxx

page 371:

"A second is no more than a second, a minute no more than a minute, a day no more than a day. They pass. All things and all time will pass."

xxx

page 375:

"Our pasts are nonexistent, our futures but a distant fear."

xxx

page 381:

"Tomorrow we go back to reality. Everyone stays awake because no one wants the night to end."

xxx

page 384:

"We are all awful. It is easier to laugh at ourselves than cry at ourselves. We are awful."

xxx

page 394:

"The Sun is shining. Bright and high, though not warm. A slow breeze moves the air like a whisper."

xxx

page 395:

"As I write the wrongs of my early childhood, most of them make me laugh."

"I learned the strength of words and I used them."

xxx

page 399:

"When I wake it is morning early morning. Not dark, but not yet light. It is gray. Gray like fading sadness, gray like rising fear. Not dark, but not yet light."

xxx

page 414:

"What is rooted will grow... The giant tree grows from a single seed. The journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step... Hold on to things too tight and you'll lose them."

"If you want to be whole, you must first be partial... If you want to be reborn, you must first die."

"That true power seems weak, that true purity seems tarnished, that true resolve seems changeable, that true clarity seems obscure."

xxx

page 415:

"I hear a song that doesn't come from notes on a page but from a beating human heart. I hear sorrow and shame and hope and redemption. I hear a past that doesn't matter and the future that never comes. I hear harmony and simplicity and patience, I hear discipline and compassion. I hear it all now."

xxx

page 428:

"I close my eyes. I stop moving when the tip of my nose hits the liquid. I close my mouth and I take a deep breath and it comes comes comes. With all its strength. The beautiful aroma of oblivion. The foul stench of Hell... Though it has not met my lips or entered my body, I can taste it. Like sweet strong charcoal mixed with bitter gasoline."

xxx

page 430:

"I touched it and I smelled it and I felt it, but I didn't drink it. I'm done drinking. Won't ever do it again."