“Instead of selling other countries weapons, we should sell them candles. Maybe then instead of singing the praises of war, they’d start singing Happy Birthday. And I don’t know anybody, not even my bully of an uncle, Uncle Sam, who wants to start a fight during that song.”

“She couldn’t take her eyes from the dancing flame. No, this was so wrong. Candles should be used for meditation…for romance. Or on a birthday cake at least.So where was the cake? The present? The song? As he stepped closer to her—as the damned flame got way too close—she started singing. “Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me…” Marcus paused, looking at her in disbelief. See. I knew he didn’t have a sense of humor. “Happy birthday, dear Gabi”—she lifted her head and blew out the candle—“happy birthday to me.”

“A weapon needs a wielder; it should not be permitted to start its own fights.""You are not my wielder; you are naught, a forgotten ghost, not even a memory.""Maybe, but you are still a weapon.”

“a penny for my thoughts oh no i'll sell em for a dollar their worth so much more after im a goner and then maybe you'll hear the words ive been singing funny when your dead how people start listening”

“I should curl up in a ball and cry. Instead i think about everything in the whole entire world that makes me angry - There is a lot, oh, there is a lot - and I start singing Justin Bieber at the top of my lungs.”

“Instead of burning the midnight oil, you should try selling it.”