“Tomorrow," Minho added. "Somehow, some way.”
“I'll think of it tomorrow, at Tara. I can stand it then. Tomorrow, I'll think of some way to get him back. After all, tomorrow is another day.”
“Somehow I wasn't adding up right anymore. My parts weren't summing into myself.”
“Libri quosdam ad scientiam, quosdam ad insaniam deduxere. (Books have led some to knowledge and some to madness.)”
“Somehow, at some point, I'd developed a serious problem. I'd started handling every single situation exactly the way it shouldn't be handled.”
“The Creators,” Minho said; then he spat on the floor. “I’m gonna break your faces!”