Achilles’ eyes lift. They are bloodshot and dead. “I wish he had let you all die.

He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.

In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.

When he died, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with him.

And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone.

But is it not a sort of genius to cut always to the heart?

She wants you to be a god, " I told him."I know." His face twisted with embarrassment, and in spite of itself my heart lightened. It was such a boyish response. And so human. Parents, everywhere.

Patroclus, ' he said. He was always better with words than I.

For who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty?

Wealth and reputation were the things our people had always killed for.

There is no honour in betraying your friends.

The best thing to hold onto in life is each other.

Did you get notes for me?""No", Ronan replied, "I thought you were dead in a ditch.

There's magic in the words. In the right order, they can make you cry, make you smile, or even make you stronger. But only if you have tasted a life that's worth living.

Singing is basically a form of pleasant, controlled screaming.

The first question at that time in poetry was simply the question of honesty, of sincerity.

Our fears can cause us to miss out on a lot of experiences and golden opportunities. Don't let your fears rob you of your life.

The USA should invade the USA and win the hearts and minds of the population by building roads, bridges and putting locals to work.

A self-respecting artist must not fold his hands on the pretext that he is not in the mood.

These are your beautiful days, Julia Beckett," he promised softly.

Missing Persons was based in Los Angeles.