Nevermore (Maximum Ride #8)

Angel screeched with fury and despair to the empty walls around her. "I'm human, do you hear me? It hurts!

Be calm. Be Zen. You are Buddha.

Blood City III: The Massacre. I'd read the summary of it online, and frankly, it sounded like the directors had just decided to film my life.

Dead Max was the biggest oxymoron in history.

Denial is not just a river in Egypt.

fuzzy black lines hiccuped across the screen.

Harden your heart.

He nuzzled my neck, inhaling deeply. “Mmm. You smell so good.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, smirking. “I call this new perfume ‘Le Jungle grime et tropical BO.’ ”

“Dirt and sweat. Very sexy.

It is my time. The time of maximum ride...

It was a pretty complete list. The kind of list one makes when one cannot fall asleep because one's thoughts keep swirling through one's brain like a bunch of sparrows on crack.

I was breathless, talking as fast as I could. I was afraid if I stopped talking, even for a second, I’d start sobbing again.

“Whoa, there.” Fang smiled and reached up, tracing a hand down the side of my face, winding strands of my hair around his fingers. “Stop talking and let me just tell you how great it is to wake up staring at your face. Okay?

NOOOO!" On the screen, a woman's eyes bugged almost out of her head, and I tried not to scream.
Tried not to scream in exasperation, I mean. The serial killer was right in front of her, wide open! Clearly, instead of weeping like a moron, she could be lunging forward and administering a swift uppercut to the chin. Then this entire pointless ordeal would be over with, and I could go home.

Save your world. Love it,protect it, respect it, and don't let the haters represent it.

Sometimes being a leader isn’t about winning. Sometimes it’s about doing what’s right, instead of what’s powerful.

Think about it. When the end comes, will you be buried in the arms of the one you love? Of the one who knew you your whole life, who loved you your whole life? The only person who could really and truly love you like you needed to be loved? I hope so.

This was a perfect storm of crap, all flying through the same fan, right at him.

Was this normalcy-predictable patterns, the certainty of doing the same thing everyday? Because if so, normalcy was about to make me freak out and start screaming.