“Layken, you're dead!" Kel shouts, through the open window as he thrusts his imaginary sword into my neck. He waits for me to slump over, but I just roll my eyes at him. "I stabbed you. You're supposed to die!"… — Colleen Hoover Copy Share Image
“Once my imagination persuaded me that the dying man gave me a reproachful look out of his shadowy eyes, and it seemed to me that I could rather he had stabbed me than done that. He muttered and mumbled like… — Mark Twain Copy Share Image
