“The last thing I need is to morph into one of those people who's always wearing black and doodling guns and bombs on her notebook.”

“They haven't killed us yet," I say, and I imagine that one day I will fly a plane over Portland, over Rochester, over every fenced-in city in the whole country, and I will bomb and bomb and bomb, and watch all their buildings smoldering to dust, and all those people melting and bleeding into flame, and I will see how they like it. If you take, we will take back. Steal from us, and we will rob you blind. When you squeeze, we will hit. This is the way the world is made now.”

“Are you a girl or a boy?' Liesl was wearing the same thin nightshirt she had been wearing since Tuesday, when her father died, and it occurred to her that if the ghost was a boy, she should cover up. 'Neither,' the ghost replied.Liesel was startled. 'You have to be one or the other.''I don't have to be anything,' the ghost replied, sounding irritated. 'I am what I am and that's all. Things are different on the Other Side, you know. Things are... blurrier.”

“And now I realize Lindsay's not fearless. She's terrified. She's terrified that people will find out she's faking, bullshitting her way through life, pretending to have everything together when really she's just floundering like the rest of us. Lindsay, who will bite at you if you even look in her direction the wrong way, like on of those tiny attack dogs that are always barking and snapping in the air before they're jerked backward on the chains that keep them in one place.”

“For the first time in a long time, I actually look at her. I've always thought Lena was pretty, but now it occurs to me that at some point - last summer? last year? - she became beautiful.”

“People need other people to feel things for them," she said. "It gets lonely to feel things all by yourself.”

“She is the only one who knowsof the Coldness: a feeling that comes sometimes when I’mlying in bed, a black, empty feeling that knocks my breathaway and leaves me gasping as though I’ve just beenthrown in icy water. On nights like that—although it is wrongand illegal—I think of those strange and terrible words, Ilove you, and wonder what they would taste like in mymouth, try to recall their lilting rhythm on my mother’stongue.”