With everything so perfect, reality seemed somehow fragile, as if the slightest interruption could imperil her pretty future... all of it felt as tenuous as a soap bubble, shivering and empty. — Scott Westerfeld Copy Share Image
Did you really think I was too fragile to know what Deryn was?" "Fragile?" Volger looked about. "I hadn't thought so, but now I find you brooding in a bathroom. This doesn't speak well of your sturdiness. — Scott Westerfeld Copy Share Image
“She thought of the orchids spreading across the plains below, choking the life out of the other plants, out of the soil itself, selfish… — Scott Westerfeld Copy Share Image
The Rusty Ruins were the remains of an old city, a hulking reminder of back when there'd been way too many people, and everyone… — Scott Westerfeld Copy Share Image
High school wasn't a trial by fire or some ordeal that had to be survived. It was all a big joke. You just had… — Scott Westerfeld Copy Share Image
And you've actually watched it yourself?' I asked. 'Willingly?' Sure. I had to see it, you know? Besides we should be safe. Only one… — Scott Westerfeld Copy Share Image
“Sure, zombies can “be a metaphor.” They can represent the oppressed, as in Land of the Dead, or humanity’s feral nature, as in 28… — Scott Westerfeld Copy Share Image
“You don't look very happy." Tally tried to smile. David had shared his biggest secret with her; she should tell him hers. But she… — Scott Westerfeld Copy Share Image
“Weird, even for one of us. Or maybe she's worse." "Worse how?" "Normal.” — Scott Westerfeld Copy Share Image
Tally smiled. At least she was causing trouble to the end. "I'm Tally Youngblood," she said. "make me pretty. — Scott Westerfeld Copy Share Image
Out here, you find out that the city fools you about how things really work. — Scott Westerfeld Copy Share Image
“Growing up like rewriting is simply admitting how clueless you were not so long ago.” — Scott Westerfeld Copy Share Image
“The beauty of the world…has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder. —Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own… — Scott Westerfeld Copy Share Image
