I Think She Just Asked If She

The Thing About The Mirror Is That No One Knows Where It Is. In Fact, No One Knows What It Is.” "it’s A Mirror,” Simon Said. “you Know – Reflective, Glass. I’m Just Assuming.

I Wish I Could Hate You," He Said. His Voice Was Light, His Mouth Curved In An Unconcerned Half Smile, His Eyes Sick With Misery. "i Want To Hate You. I Try To Hate You. It Would Be So Much Easier If I Did Hate You. Sometimes I Do Hate You And Then I See You And I.

You Know This Means That What We Did-what We Almost Did In Paris-" "going To The Eiffel Tower?

There Was An Electric Anger In His Gaze, And A Sort Of Challenge That Made Simon Long To Hit Him With Something Heavy. Like A Pickup Truck.

Cleverness That Comes Too Late Is Hardly Cleverness At All?