The worst kind of poison for despots: truth.
she...let the blood spill down instead of tears.
Surely, she was too young to have so many ghosts.
My head feels round," Simon said sadly. "So round.
Love didn't make you weak, it made you stronger.
He'll come back," Simon said again. "For you.
A thick rivulet of lost blood reflects a city that will mourn but never die.
Humans have too many rights and not enough responsibilities. -Aras
My heart is your heart," he said. "My hands are your hands.
Voters might have short memories. Politicians do not.
L'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle.
I don't want him to be in my passwords .. I want him for real !
You couldn’t live close to war and not have it grab you eventually.
The city buildings in the distance are holding up the sky, it seems.
Exploration is a dirty game.
Bombay is a city where gossip is treated as a commodity.
As long as there was coffee in the world, how bad could things be?
I just don't see why the past has to matter.
Ne želim biti muško.Želim biti tinejdžer koji se ne može suočiti s vlastitim demonima pa se umjesto toga verbalno iskaljava na drugim ljudima.
Here's a hot tip: Most girls don't like being stalked.
In the large cities that received new Americans, there flowered a golden age of restaurants, manned by the available talent from abroad and fueled by the restless wealth of the newly rich.
