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I kissed him once," she whispered. "Well done. What did he do?" "Um..." Deryn sighed. "He woke up.
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"Clear-cutting" was the word for what the Rusties had done to the old forests: felling every tree, killing every living thing, turning entire countries into grazing land. Whole rain forests had been consumed, reduced from millions of interlocking species to a bunch of cows eating grass, a vast web of life traded for cheap hamburgers. "Look, we're not clear-cutting. All we're doing is pulling out the garbage that the Rusties left behind,” David said. "It just takes a little surgery to do it."
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You're splitting?" "No sh*it, Sherlock.
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I’m not against thinking; I’m only against thinking that thinking on its own will get you out of a hole. Shovel also needed.
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He squeezed her hand. "Then I'll come get you, wherever you are when it happens. We'll be okay." "But what about everybody else?" He stared out across the river, nodding slowly. "My guess is, everybody else is in big trouble.
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It's just been a long week, that's all." "It's monday night, Jess." "My point exactly.
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Tally turned away. Five minutes was suddenly too long to stand here, eyes burning, unable to cry.
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All that glitters is not hovery.
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When she awoke, the world was on fire.
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But you weren't born expecting that kind of beauty in everyone, all the time. You just got programmed into thinking anything else is ugly.
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You're insane!" she shouted. "Pretty cool, huh?" "No!"Tally yelled. "Why didn't you tell me it was broken?" Shay shrugged. "More fun that way?" "More fun?" Her heart beating fast,her vision strangely clear. She was full of anger and relief and...joy. "Well, kind of. But you suck!
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Perhaps the logical conclusion of everyone looking the same is everyone thinking the same.
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Didn't this beat everything? A pretty and an ugly taking a stroll together. The warden came closer, confusion all over his middle-pretty face. Tally smiled. At least she was causing trouble to the end. "I'm Tally Youngblood," she said. "Make me pretty.
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Irony is always the best weapon against fascism.
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Reality had no gears, and you never knew what surprises would come spinning out of its chaos.
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I'm Tally Youngblood. Make me pretty." -Tally Youngblood
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Alek said, "Do you think I'm being a fool?" "I think you're trying to do something good. But doing good is rarely easy, and no weapon has ever stopped a war.
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The early summer sky was the color of cat vomit.
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What about a hoverboard?" "It's waiting on the roof, of course." Dr. Cable snorted. "What is it about you miscreants and those things?
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Your father always suspected that being pretty-minded is simply the natural state for most people. They want to be vapid and lazy and vain—Maddy glanced at Tally—and selfish. It only takes a twist to lock in that part of their personalities. He always thought that some people could think their way out of it.
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Barking hard work, being a boy.
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I used to be a pre-industrial writer: thousands of words in a spurt and then a few days off. But as I get older, I've switched to a mode best described as 'slow and steady wins the race.' Basically, I write during the same four hours every day, after breakfast and the all-important coffee, generally in the same room and wearing the same pajamas.
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That Shay was in possesion of hand grenades was a comforting thought showed what kind of night this had become.
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Never bored on a hoverboard.