Money's the same, whoever gives it to you. That was the point of money, after all: crisp and clean or wrinkled or disintegrated into quarters - a dollar was always worth a hundred cents. — Scott Westerfeld Copy Share Image
Never give us what we really want. Cut the dream into pieces and scatter them like ashes. Dole out the empty promises. Package our aspirations and sell them to us, cheaply made enough to fall apart. — 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
