“The worst thing about the dead rising? (Other than, you know, all the zombies?) The smell. Nothing kills the mood like the odor of three day old road kill and poo... -Katherine Anita Cho(KyCH)”
“Don't waste yer' breath kid. Explainin' anything to that one? It's like tryin' ta' slap the dumb off a retard... -George Foster”
“He comes down next to me, and when I hold out my hand, he takes it. Our fingers lace together. And in that feeling, that perfect feeling of our hands and fingers pressed together, I want to tell him everything. I want to tell him about Josh, and his sister, Emily. I want to tell him about tall, crazy Gert. I want to tell him about bridges and funerals, and most of all, maps. More than anything else, I want to tell him about myself. I want to tell him that I know what things look like from above now. There's so much I want to tell him, because I know he'll understand.”
“I don't know about you, but I only have one life, and I don't want to spend it in a sewer of injustice.”
“I understand that nothing is easy.I say everything happens for a reason.I dream of one day the world is in peace.I try to see the good in everything.I am a caring girl who loves to flip.”
“So I see you got to know Trish on a pretty intimate level tonight,” Max said, focusing her attention back on the present as they made their way down the deserted roads back to her house. “She was definitely…friendly.”What Landon casually defined as friendly was what Max more accurately described as molestation. Her hands had disappeared under the table, rubbing his leg or whatever she was doing, more times than she spent holding her damn cards. Landon’s indifference to the whole thing was entirely impossible to read. Was he enjoying the attention? Wouldn’t any man? Not that it was any of her business. Landon was just some guy that she’d let stay with her for a few days. The fact that he was good-looking was irrelevant. Trish could have him for all she cared as long as they kept the indecencies out of her house.“Well, don’t you worry about her. She’s a bit of a flirt when she’s drunk. I’m pretty sure she’d hit on a monkey.”“You just compared me to a monkey and you don’t want me to worry?”“You know what I mean.”“I’m sorry, I don’t.”“Don’t tell me that girls like that actually appeal to you.”“Jealous?”“Hardly,” Max shot back defensively. “I just pegged you for a man with higher standards that’s all.” She couldn’t really say why she’d chosen to share her opinion. No harm in giving the guy a little warning, right?“You’ve pegged me for a lot of things.”
“Zombies smell worse than anything you can imagine if you haven’t been hunting things on the dark side of the world. It’s a ripe, gassy odour, like rotting eggs and meat gone bad, crawling blind with maggots. It’s road kill and decayed food and body odour all rolled into one package and tied up with puke.”