Words worth keeping

I know how devastated you must be to miss me, but leave a message, and I'll try to ease your agony

The past is never where you think you left it.

You could say sorry," suggested Harry bluntly. "What, and get attacked by another flock of canaries?" muttered Ron."What did you have to imitate her for?""She laughed at my mustache!""So did I, it was the stupidest thing I've ever seen.

Dreams are always crushing when they don't come true. But it's the simple dreams that are often the most painful because they seem so personal, so reasonable, so attainable. You're always close enough to touch, but never quite close enough to hold and it's enough to break your heart.

Demon pox, oh demon poxJust how is it acquired?One must go down to the bad part of townUntil one is very tired.Demon pox, oh demon pox, I had it all along—Not the pox, you foolish blocks,I mean this very song—For I was right, and you were wrong!""Will!" Charlotte shouted over the noise, "Have you LOST YOUR MIND? CEASE THAT INFERNAL RACKET! Jem—" Jem, rising to his feet, clapped his hands over Will's mouth. "Do you promise to be quiet?" he hissed into his friend's ear.Will nodded, blue eyes blazing. Tessa was staring at him in amazement; they all were. She had seen Will many things—amused, bitter, condescending, angry, pitying—but never giddy before.Jem let him go. "All right, then."Will slid to the floor, his back against the armchair, and threw up his arms. "A demon pox on all your houses!" he announced, and yawned."Oh, God, weeks of pox jokes," said Jem. "We're in for it now.

In one aspect, yes, I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves.

Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months.

I don't mind making jokes, but I don't want to look like one.

I guess that's what saying good-bye is always like--like jumping off an edge. The worst part is making the choice to do it. Once you're in the air, there's nothing you can do but let go.

Well, she's not responding to my advances," he observed more brightly than he felt, "so she must be dead." "Or she's a woman of good taste and sense.

Gus: "It tastes like..."Me: "Food."Gus: "Yes, precisely. It tastes like food, excellently prepared. But it does not taste, how do I put this delicately...?"Me: "It does not taste like God Himself cooked heaven into a series of five dishes which were then served to you accompanied by several luminous balls of fermented, bubbly plasma while actual and literal flower petals floated down around your canal-side dinner table."Gus: "Nicely phrased."Gus's father: "Our children are weird."My dad: "Nicely phrased.

You are okay?" he asked. "Not eaten by monsters?""Not even a little bit." I showed him that I still had both arms and both legs, and Tyson clapped happily."Yay!" he said. "Now we can eat peanut butter sandwiches and ride fish ponies! We can fight monsters and see Annabeth and make things go BOOM!"I hoped he didn't mean all at the same time, but I told him absolutely, we'd have a lot of fun this summer.

The impossible could not have happened, therefore the impossible must be possible in spite of appearances.

Have you tried talking to her?" "No. We've been punching her in the face repeatedly. What? You don't think that will work?

Name the greatest of all inventors. Accident.