Conversation Was Irrelevant. Only Pie Mattered.

And You Work For That Demon, Right? The One Who Looks Like Matthew Broderick?” “john Cusack,” I Corrected. “he Looks Like John Cusack.” “whatever.

Worry About Staying Alive First. Then Worry About How You're Going To Live.

Longing Surged Up Within Me. I Wanted It. Oh God, I Wanted It. I Didn't Want To Hear Jerome Chastise Me For My "all Lowlifes, All The Time" Seduction Policy. I Wanted To Come Home And Tell Someone About My Day. I Wanted To Go Out Dancing On The Weekends. I Wanted To Take Vacations Together. I Wanted Someone To Hold Me When I Was Upset, When The Ups And Downs Of The World Pushed Me Too Far. I Wanted Someone To Love.

Adrian Smiled And Clasped My Hands, Taking A Few Steps Toward Me. "and As For Who You Are, You’re The Same Beautiful, Brave, And Ridiculously Smart Caffeinated Fighter You’ve Been Since The Day I Met You.” Finally, He Put “beautiful” At The Top Of His List Of Adjectives. Not That I Should Have Cared. “sweet Talker,” I Scoffed. “you Didn’t Know Anything About Me The First Time We Met.” “i Knew You Were Beautiful,” He Said. “i Just Hoped For The Rest.

Back To Prison. Maybe If You Fake A Heart Attack, I Can Make A Break For It. (rose Hathaway Says To Lissa Dragomir)