They murdered him.
I have always had a sense that we are all pretty much alone in life, particularly in adolescence.
Everybody sins, Francis. The terrible thing is that we love our sins. We love the thing that makes us evil.
I wonder if it's a special sin to lie to a nun
You see Carter, people are two things: greedy and cruel. So we have a perfect set-up here. The greed part - a kid pays a buck for a chance to win a hundred. Plus fifty boxes of chocolates. The cruel p...
Go get your bus, square boy.
He was intrigued by the power of words, not the literary words that filled the books in the library but the sharp, staccato words that went into the writing of news stories. Words that went for the ju...
Sometimes I wake up at night in a panic. Wondering: What will my life be like? And sometimes I even wonder: Who am I? What am I doing here, on this planet, in this city, in this house? And it gives me...
Do I dare disturb the universe? Yes I do, I do. I think.
Do I dare disturb the universe? Yes, I do, I do. I think. Jerry suddenly understood the poster--the solitary man on the beach standing upright and alone and unafraid, poised at the moment of making hi...
Pluck my heartFrom my fleshAnd eat it.....
Cities fell. Earth opened. Planets tilted. Stars plummeted. And the awful silence.
He was afraid that his body would come loose, all his bones spilling out like a building collapsing, like a picket fence clattering apart.
There was nothing more beautiful in the world than the sight of a teacher getting upset.
Family life was wonderful. The streets were bleak. The playgrounds were bleak. But home was always warm. My mother and father had a great relationship. I always felt 'safe' there.
They don't actually want you to do your own thing, not unless it's their thing too.
Ray Bannister started to build the guillotine the day Jerry Renault returned to Monument.
He closed the locker quickly so no one would see the damage. For some reason, he felt ashamed.
He was swept with a sadness, a sadness deep and penetrating, leaving him desolate like someone washed up on a beach, a lone survivor in a world full of strangers.
He hated to think of his own life stretching ahead of him that way, a long succession of days and nights that were fine - not good, not bad, not great, not lousy, not exciting, not anything.