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“You want to kill me, and I do not care, for no matter how you kill me, it will not make a difference, because I never wanted to live in the first place. Kill me and tell them that I fought. I will be remembered a fighter, and you will go down a hero. Kill me and be left with the memory, that you killed someone who wanted to die. Only your saints will know your sins, but they do not care, for theirs outweigh your own.”

“You want to kill me?? - So I guess that truth hurts, but why it hurts? Lie doesn't but truth does?? How does it happen?? So you go... you say "Well, well pretty nice made knife..." and you are looking it by moving it like rotate and such type of stuff and one moment you want to kill me. But why?? Is it because I just "I lived" or it was because of "Listen" or it was because of "The Walk"?? or what's the answer?”

“You want to kill me, don't you? And here I thought you and your friends were so righteous. You are just as capable of evil as anyone. Perhaps more so. Yet you believe your brand of evil is justified, so long as it serves your own misguided purposes." --Saint Dane”

“You want to know about a certain period and what happened?-You go into this building and all of a sudden you are transported! You're not just shown pictures, not even 3-D pictures, not even movies, but suddenly you are transported live by a time machine to that very time, that very age and you see it happen, you watch it happen, you hear it happen, you feel it happen! Think of it! Not only the movies but the 'feelies'! You are there!”

“You want to know how I see you?' Forster's voice turned husky. Detta's mouth was swollen from grazing his stubble and he couldn't stop looking at it, at her. 'When we are together, all I can think of is you, and when sleep comes, I dream of you.' Detta had stilled yet he continued, unable to stop. 'And when we're apart, I ache for you. Missing you is a physical pain that I cannot rid myself of and nor would I ever choose to because there is no sweeter pain than that which reminds me of you. You are my everything.”

“You want to know how the story really ends? You want to know the part of the tale that everyone forgets?' ... 'I told you that I killed her, but I didn't say how.' A dangerous intensity slipped in to Jacks' voice. 'I didn't tell you that I ran away, that I tried to leave her so I wouldn't hurt her. I didn't know if I really loved her, or if my feelings were all from the curse, because it wouldn't let me stop thinking about her. But she had more faith in me that I did. She chased after me. She was convinced I really loved her and that I could fight the curse. And I did. I never laid a hand on her. I overcame the Archer's curse. But it didn't matter, because as soon as I kissed her, she died.' Jack's mouth twisted bitterly. 'Since then, every girl I've kissed has died, except for one. And you are not that girl.”

“You want to know how to rely on others right? That's 'cause I can't do everything on my own." "B-but... if you say that then it's like you're saying that you're weak! I can't do that." "What... is this?" "G- green tea?" "Exactly. But it's coffee inside." "What?! What's that supposed to-" "No matter how much you insist that this is green tea... to me, the inside is still coffee. Just changing the label doesn't mean that what's inside changes." "Well, duh." "So... when you can't do something and you refuse to admit it... then it's the same as faking and insisting that this is green tea... when the inside is coffee. You said that you understood. You knew that you can't do much on your own and that you need to rely on others. But you can't do it. That's because you're scared of being rejected by others. I don't know what you think about how the others around you judge you. But the fact that you're scared out of your wits... has been blatantly obvious to everyone.”

“You want to know the biggest illusion about success? That it's like a pinnacle to be climbed, a thing to be possessed, or a static result to be achieved. If you want to succeed, if you want to achieve all your outcomes, you have to think of success as a process, a way of life, a habit of mind, a strategy for life.”

“You want to know the coolest part?" Mom chimed in. "There isn't assigned seating at the dinning room, and they have tables for four. That means the three of us can sit down and if we pile the extra chair with our gloves and hats, nobody can sit with us!" Dad and I looked a each other, like, Is she joking? "And penguins," Mom quickly added. "I'm wildly excited about all those penguins.”

“You want to know what I believe? I believe in fate, but I also believe in free will. Meaning, there's a path, but we're free to veer away from it. The only problem is that there's no way to know whose path we're following on any given moment. Our own? Our fate's? Other people are on their on paths, too. What happens when we intersect? What happens when someone else wipes our path clean, and we're left with no road to follow? Is that fate? Is that when free will kicks in? Is the path there, but invisible? Who the hell knows?”

“You want to know what I did to make him raise me up?' I ask, leaning toward her, close enough that she can feel the warmth of my breath. 'I kissed him on the mouth, and then I threatened to kiss him some more if he didn't do exactly what I wanted.' 'Liar,' she hisses. 'If you're such good friends,' I say, repeating her own words back to her with malicious satisfaction, 'why don't you ask him?”

“You want to know what I'm afraid of? All right, I'll tell you. I'm afraid of men - yes, I'm very much afraid of men. And I'm even more afraid of women. And I'm very much afraid of the whole bloody human race. Afraid of them? Of course I'm afraid of them. Who wouldn't be afraid of a pack of damned hyenas? [...] And when I say afraid - that's just a word I use. What I really mean is that I hate them. I hate their voices, I hate their eyes, I hate the way they laugh. I hate the whole bloody business. It's cruel, it's idiotic, it's unspeakably horrible. I never had the guts to kill myself or I'd have got out of it long ago.”