Life Is Full Of Risks. Death Is

He Took Something Out Of His Jacket And Handed It To Her. It Was A Long Thin Dagger In A Leather Sheath. The Hilt Of The Dagger Was Set With A Single Red Stone Carved In The Shape Of A Rose. She Shook Her Head. "i Wouldn't Even Know How To Use That--" He Pressed It Into Her Hand, Curling Her Fingers Around It. "you'd Learn." He Dropped His Voice. "it's In Your Blood." She Drew Her Hand Back Slowly. "all Right." "i Could Give You A Thigh Sheath To Put That In," Isabelle Offered. "i've Got Tons." "certainly Not," Said Simon.

As The Carriage Whipped Forward, They Passed The Alley She Had Spent So Many Days Staring At—it Was There, And Then Gone As They Careened Around A Corner, Nearly Knocking Over A Costermonger Pushing A Donkey Cart Piled High With New Potatoes. Tessa Screamed. Will Reached Past Her And Yanked The Curtain Shut. "it's Better If You Don't Look," He Told Her Pleasantly. "he's Going To Kill Someone. Or Get Us Killed." "no, He Won't. Thomas Is An Excellent Driver." Tessa Glared At Him. "clearly The Word Excellent Means Something Else On This Side Of The Atlantic.

If People Ever Look Down Upon You For Crying For Fictional Characters, You Should Give Them A Gentle, Pitying Look And Feel Bad For Them. If They've Never Cried For A Fictional Character, Then They've Never Loved One (and What A Joy That Is). If They've Never Cried At A Book, A Movie, A Piece Of Music, Then They've Missed One Of The Great Pleasures Life Has To Offer. Just Because Fiction Does Not Contain Things That Are Real Doesn't Mean It Doesn't Contain Truth, And We Find It Through The Alchemy Of Our Tears.

Scott Noticed Will Staring At It And Grinned. "like What You See?" Woolsey Scott Asked. "i Do Enjoy These Surprise Midnight Declarations. Go Along, Have At It.

I Am Sorry," Will Said. "no," Jem Said... "don't Be Ordinary Like That. Don't Say You're Sorry.