I’m just scared of ghosts, Pudge. And home is full of them.
Colder by the hour, more dead with every breath.
What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person.
But it’s not a cancer book, because cancer books suck.
So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.
He’d fought hard, Lida told me, as if there was another way to fight.
She loved so much misteries tha she became one
And on some level it walways felt like kids paying at being grown
The existence of broccoli does not in any way affect the taste of chocolate.
A Margo for each of us–and each more mirror than window.
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