What are you waiting for?" shanna asked. "He's dying! Do it!" Conner looked at Angus. "Ye do it. It was yer idea.""Nay? Ye were the first to suggest it. Ye do it.""I'm no' touching him." Conner said.He nudged Phineas "Ye do it.""I don't even know how!" Phineas poked at Robby. "You do it.""Why me?" Robby turned to Angus. "Ye're the expert. Ye do it."Angus grimaced. "I'm no' doing it. I hate the bugger.""Stop it!" Shanna screamed "You- Forget it! I'll do it myself.""Shanna you don't know how," Roman said."Gods blood. I guess I have to do it." "You guess?" Shanna cried "Are you going to let him die?""He threatens to kill me every time he sees me.

My dear fellow " Said Albert, turning to Franz " here is an admirable adventure; we will fill our carriage with pistols, blunderbusses, and double-barreled shotguns. Luigi Vampa comes to take us, and we take him - we bring him back to Rome , and present him to him holiness the Pope, who asks how he can repay so great a service; Then we merely ask for a cariage and a pair of horses, and we will see the Carnival in the carriage , and doubtless the Roman people will crown us at the capitol , and proclaim us, like Curtius and the veiled Horatius, the preservers of there country." Whilst Albert proposed this scheme, signor Pastrini's face assumed an expression impossible to describe.

I did want adventure. I didn’t want to prescribe Ritalin to ADHD kids and tell fat old men to get more exercise. I wanted to go to the heart of Africa. Cradling villages of starving, disease-ridden children. Reserving no luxuries for myself. We would share everything: “Here. This syringe is dirty. Careful.”Engaging the deadliest disease of all. The AIDS virus. The beauty of it’s DNA sequence, to be so extraordinarily complex without sacrificing elegance. The mystery. The danger. The romance as it waltzes with my white blood cells inside me. “Give it to me. Inject it,” I’d say. To be destroyed so efficiently. But I settled for less.

Are you suggesting I’m working with thezombies? That I paid them to pretend toattack me so that I’d trick you into letting me join you?”“Did you?” Mr. Holland demanded.“Yeah, okay,” I said in a sugar-sweet tone. “You’re right. I was having dinner with Zombie Carl the other night. You know, steaks, rare, and a bottle of vintage type A. He told me all his secrets, but too bad for you I promised him I wouldn’t tell. In exchange I asked him to gather hisbest undead buddies and stalk me throughmy friend’s yard. And oh, yeah, it wastotally fine if they wanted to use me as an all-night dinner buffet, because having organs is so last season.

St. Clair gets a crush on Anna. He's torn between her and Ellie, and he spends so much time running between them that he hardly has time left for Josh. And the more time that Josh spends alone, the more he realizes how alone he actually is. All of his friends will be gone the next year. Josh grows increasingly antagonistic toward school, which makes Rashmi increasingly antagonistic toward him, which makes him increasingly antagonistic toward her. And she's upset because Elie dropped her as a friend, and Meredith is upset because now St. Clair likes two girls who aren't her, and Anna is upset because St. Clair is leading her on, and then St. Clair's mom gets cancer. It's a freaking soap opera.

"Joss""What?""What?" Dylan asked back."You just said my name.""No I didn't""Sorry that was me."I sat up, banging my head on the roof. "Who is that?""Hey, stay down here where the air is good, okay?" Dylan pulled me gently back down. "Hows your head?""Not good, I think.""Um, okay, so you here me. Heather's right, you do think loud. I mean, I've never heard you before, but my Talent seems to be a lot more selective than her's. But now that she's got me turned in to you-""Who are you?""It's still me, Marshall. It's Dylan. I'm right here.""My name's Joel.""Joel?""Joss, what are you talking about?" He took my face in his hands. "Who's Joel?""The voice in my head, I guess.""Jesus.

We already have the Wooden Pillar, the Steel Pillar and the Plastic Pillar. In a moment we will have the Golden Bail....'No, you won't.'We will,' stated the robot simply.No, you won't. It makes my ship work.'In a moment,' repeated the robot patiently, 'we will have the Golden Bail....'You will not,' said Zaphod.And then we must go,' said the robot, in all seriousness, 'to a party.'Oh,' said Zaphod, startled, 'can I come?'No,' said the robot, 'we are going to shoot you.'Oh, yeah?' said Zaphod, waggling his gun.Yes,' said the robot, and they shot him.Zaphod was so surprised that they had to shoot him again before he fell down. (85-86)

Neythen looked perplexed. 'My mum always said I'm named after a saint, not an illness.''Which one?''Well he had his head chopped off, see? And then he picked it up and carried it down the road a time. All the way back home, I think.''Messy,' Piers said. 'Not to mention unlikely, though one has to think of chickens and their post-mortal abilities. Did she think that you would inherit the same gift?'Neythen blinked. 'No, my lord.''Perhaps she was just hopeful. It behooves mothers to look ahead to this sort of possibility, after all. I'm tempted to behead you just to see if she was right.Sometimes the most unlikely superstitions turn out to have a basis in fact.

The only thing known to go faster than ordinary light is monarchy, according to the philosopher Ly Tin Wheedle. He reasoned like this: you can't have more than one king, and tradition demands that there is no gap between kings, so when a king dies the succession must therefore pass to the heir instantaneously. Presumably, he said, there must be some elementary particles -- kingons, or possibly queons -- that do this job, but of course succession sometimes fails if, in mid-flight, they strike an anti-particle, or republicon. His ambitious plans to use his discovery to send messages, involving the careful torturing of a small king in order to modulate the signal, were never fully expanded because, at that point, the bar closed.

Minutes passed by. A little blue butterfly landed on my nose. I blinked at it and it fluttered to my ear. A big yellow butterfly gently floated over and landed on my paw. Soon a whole swarm of them floated up and down around me, like a swirl of multicolored petals. It happened in my backyard, too, if the magic was strong enough. Butterflies were small and light, and very magic sensitive. For some reason I made them feel safe and they gravitated to me like iron shavings to a magnet. They ruined my ferocious badass image, but you’d have to be a complete beast to swat butterflies.If a baby deer frolicked out from between the buildings trying to cuddle up, I would roar. I wouldn’t bite it, but I would roar. I had my limits.

Boomer took bites of all six varieties, contemplating each one and "guring out the order in which he would then eat them. “I like thebrown one and the lighter brown one and the almost-brown one. I’m not so sure about the minty one. But really, I think the lebkuchen spiceone is the best.”“The what?”“The lebkuchen spice one.” He held it up for me. “This one.”“You’re making that up. What’s a lebkuchen spice? It sounds like a cross between a Keebler elf and a stripper. Hello, my name eesLebkuchen Spice, and I vant to show you my cooooookies...”“Don’t be rude!” Boomer protested. As if the cookie might be offended.

Are you wearing space pants?" Miranda asked him."What?"How did it end? oh, right. "Because your butt is fine."He gazed at her in that way he had like he was measuring her for straitjacket. "I think-" he started, then stopped and seemed to be having trouble talking. Cleared his throat three times before saying, "I think the line is 'because your butt is out of this world.""Oh. That makes a lot more sense. I can see that. See, I read this book about how to get guys to like you and they said it was a line that never failed but i got interrupted in the middle and the line before it was about china-not the country, the kind you eat off of-and that is where the fine part was but i must have gotten them confused. He just kept staring at her.

He’s not that smart.”“She’s right,” Augustus says. “It’s just that most really good-looking people are stupid, so I exceed expectations.”“Right, it’s primarily his hotness.”“It can be sort of blinding,” he said.“It actually did blind our friend Isaac.”“Terrible tragedy, that. But can I help my own deadly beauty?”“You cannot.”“It is my burden, this beautiful face.”“Not to mention your body.”“Seriously, don’t even get me started on my hot bod. You don’t want to see me naked, Dave. Seeing me naked actually took Hazel Grace’s breath away,” he said, nodding toward the oxygen tank.

I can't go to Amsterdam. One of my doctors thinks it's a bad idea."He was quiet for a second. "God," he said. "I should've just paid for it myself. Should've just taken you straight from the Funky Bones to Amsterdam.""But then I would've had a probably fatal episode of deoxygenation in Amsterdam, and my body would have been shipped home in the cargo hold of an airplane," I said. "Well, yeah," he said. "But before that, my grand romantic gesture would have totally gotten me laid."I laughed pretty hard, hard enought that I felt where the chest tube had been. "You laugh because it's true," he said.I laughed again."It's true, isn't it!" "Probably not," I said, and then after a moment added, "although you never know.

They arrived home again to a most peculiar sight. The small garden at the front of the Banana House had been transformed. A tidal wave of cushions, beanbags, quilts, hearth rugs, and sleeping bags appeared to have swept up the lawn and broken at the wall. From Indigo's window a multicolored rope of knotted bedsheets came snaking out and ended among the cushions. As Micheal and Caddy watched, a mattress emerged and fell to the ground, followed by a rain of pillows."Indigo!" shouted Caddy, jumping out of the car.Indigo's and Rose's heads appeared in the window above."It's all right, Caddy!" Indigo called cheerfully. "We've been doing it all the time you've been gone.""We keep finding more stuff to land on!" added Rose. "Look!