You've Got To Take It On Faith

Sydney Had Been Horrified To Discover My Home Library Consisted Of A Bartending Dictionary And An Old Copy Of Esquire, And At Her Pleading, I'd Promised To Read Something More Substantial. I Was Trying To Think Deep Thoughts As I Read Gatsby, But Mostly I Wanted To Throw Some Parties.

And Sometimes, If I Was Really, Really Lucky, He’d Smile At Me. A Real Smile, Too—not The Dry One That Accompanied The Sarcasm We Tossed Around So Often. I Didn’t Want To Admit It To Anyone—not To Lissa, Not Even To Myself—but Some Days, I Lived For Those Smiles.

Shouldn't That Be Flipped Right-side Up?" I Asked. "no," She Said, Eyes On The Cards. After Several Moments Of Heavy Silence, Said, "you Will Destroy That Which Is Undead." I Waited About Thirty Seconds For Her To Continue, But She Didn't. "wait, That's It?" She Nodded. "that's What The Cards Say To Me.

You Make A Joke Out Of Everything. Life’s Too Painful Not To.

No," He Said, Voice Thick And Husky. His Fingers Dug Into The Chair's Arms. "you'd Better Not Get Too Close." I Stopped, Laughing Softly. "you Don't Strike Me As The Assaulting Type, Mortensen." "yeah, Well, There's A First Time For Everything.