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“But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my tumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get at” — John Green
But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my tumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get at