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Claudia Gray

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“Noemy says, “I guess it’s just the idea of love I miss. And, well, it was a good kiss.” Her smile turns rueful. “At least I got some practice.” A wonderful idea occurs to Abel. “Do you need more practice?” “Huh?” “We could practice, if you wanted."He smiles as he starts to explain."Remember what I told you on Genesis? I’m programmed with a wide array of techniques for providing physical pleasure, via every activity from kissing to the more arcane positions for sexual intercourse. Although I’ve never performed any of them before, I’m confident I could do so very skillfully.” She stares at him, eyes wide. Since she is swift to voice objections if she has them, Abel takes her silence as an encouraging sign. So he sits up on the bed to explain the further compelling reasons now coming to mind. “Humans need a certain amount of physical release and comfort in order to be psychologicallly healthy. You’ve been away from your family and friends for some time, and have endured considerable trauma, suggesting you are in even greater need than usual. I have all the information and technique necessary to be an excellent partner, my body is designed to be appealing, and of course I can neither carry disease nor impregnate you. We have total privacy and many hours of spare time. Conditions for intercourse would seem to be ideal.”

“It saddens me to see girls proudly declaring they’re not like other girls – especially when it’s 41,000 girls saying it in a chorus, never recognizing the contradiction. It’s taking a form of contempt for women – even a hatred for women – and internalizing it by saying, Yes, those girls are awful, but I’m special, I’m not like that, instead of stepping back and saying, This is a lie. The real meaning of “I’m not like the other girls” is, I think, “I’m not the media’s image of what girls should be.” Well, very, very few of us are. Pop culture wants to tell us that we’re all shallow, backstabbing, appearance-obsessed shopaholics without a thought in our heads beyond cute boys and cuter handbags. It’s a lie – a flat-out lie – and we need to recognize it and say so instead of accepting that judgment as true for other girls, but not for you.”

“Theo's already on his way. Paul might bee too, but communications have been down so long, I don't know." "Heading out here with a storm like this coming in? That's madness." Dad sighs. "Then again, jumping through dimensions to chase a dead man is madness too. I had long suspected their lunacy but this confirmation is nonetheless disquieting." "See? Everything's going to be fine.”

“Every single world we've visited isn't just random—it's the result of countless choices, all of them combining to create a new reality. You and I have been given an infinity of chances, and that's so much more than mot people will ever get—but in the end we get to live in only one world, and that's the world we make. I want us to create that world together.”

“We look at our challenges—at our lessons—as things we master in order to achieve our goals. But the most important lessons in life sometimes have to do with what happens when we fail. How do we know when to surrender and walk away? How do we judge our own part in our failures? Is it something to learn from, or just bad luck? And how do we pick ourselves up again afterward?”

“Ero sincera quando ho detto che non credevo nell'amore a prima vista. Ci vuole del tempo per innamorarsi davvero, totalmente di qualcuno. Eppure credo anche che ci sia un momento. Un momento in cui cogli la verità nascosta dentro qualcuno, e lui coglie la verità dentro di te. In quel momento, non appartieni più a te stesso, non completamente. Una parte di te appartiene a lui, e una parte di lui appartiene a te. Quando succede, non si può tornare indietro, per quanto lo si voglia, per quanto ci si provi.”

“There's one way. Only one. Mine." Balthazar stepped closer, using every inch he had on Lucas, who was tall but not that tall. "Charity is a person. The same as you, the same as me." "You and me aren't the same." Balthazar cocked his head. "Then let's say the same as Bianca. Will that make you listen?" "Bianca's no killer! She didn't have a choice about what she is." "Guys, don't do this," I pleaded, but they paid no attention. "A choice? You think we all get a choice?" Although Balthazar spoke softly, there was a roughness to his voice I'd never heard before. It sent chills down my spine. "Try being hunted down in the night. Try running as far and as fast as you can and finding out their faster. Try coming to in a stable, with your parents' dead bodies on the ground in front of you, your hands roped above your head and a dozen hungry vampires arguing with each other about who gets you next. See how much choice you have then." Lucas just stared at him. Obviously he'd never imagined anything like that; neither had I. Even more quietly, Balthazar continued, "Try watching your baby sister die, and then tell me that you wouldn't spend the rest of eternity trying to make up for it. When you've done all that, Lucas, then you can talk to me about choices. Until that time, tell me what I need to know and then shut your mouth.”