By plucking her petals you do not gather the beauty of the flower. —Rabindranath Tagore, Stray Birds
However stupid the choice seemed, Shay had made it with her eyes open, and had respected Tally's choice to stay.
I'm here to learn. And what you have taught me is to avoid love as long as possible.
More important, she had someone else now. However unfair it was that her memories of David had been erased, Tally had built a whole new set of memories, and she couldn’t just trade them in for the old...
Nate liked money. It was a sleek and clever invention, beautiful in the way it lubricated power and focused people's attention. But it had a clumsy, brutal side, too. Money bludgeoned people without i...
Nature can blow me.
Nature, at least, didn’t need an operation to be beautiful. It just was.
Or maybe when they do the operation - when they grind and stretch your bones to the right shape, peel off your face and rub all your skin away, and stick in plastic cheekbones so you look like everybo...
Perhaps Clankers and Darwinists would always be at war, if only in their hearts.
Rex lost his specs.
Some were grotesquely fat, or weirdly overmuscled, or uncomfortably thin, and almost all of them had wrong, ugly proportions. But instead of being ashamed of their deformities, the people were laughin...
Sometimes Tally felt she could almost accept brain damage if it meant a life without reconstituted noodles.
Sometimes, the hardest thing was doingnothing.
Still, she wouldn’t have traded anything for this moment, standing there and looking down at the plains spread out below. Tally had spent the last four years staring at the skyline of New Pretty Town,...
Tally sighed, tipping her feet again to follow. Maybe that's because they have better stuff to do than kid tricks. Maybe partying in town is better than hanging out in a bunch of old ruins. Shay's eye...
That girl in the painting looks so fierce, so strong. I want her to be the truth of me.
That's how things were out here in the wild, she was learning. Dangerous or beautiful. Or both.
The early summer sky was the color of cat vomit. Of
The features that we take from our parents are the things that make us different. A big nose, thin lips, high forehead—all the things that the operation takes away.
The night went on like this, a mix of serious talk, utter bullshit, self-promotion, and slumber-party giddiness.
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