Best 13 quotes of Natalie Standiford on MyQuotes

Before he sat down, my internal heat-seekers sensed what was coming my way: deep blue eyes that melted girls like Velveeta in a microwave. I tried to resist those microwave eyes, but sometimes there's no defense against them. I had a feeling I'd be seeing him weeping over my coffin later that night.

But why? Why do you care about our class’s history?" "I just do. Besides, I need something to put on my art-school applications besides ’Locks self in room and draws all day.’ Even art schools won’t take a psychopath.

Even if you know what's coming, you're never prepared for how it feels.

I didn't want to die. I just found death soothing to think about.

If you'd only let me come by myself, none of this would have happened. Having you around makes everything worse.' She buried her head under her pillow. 'Stop it! you're so cold! You're heartless, you little robot!' The pillow muffled her words, but they still stung. 'I feel things,' I said. 'I'm not a robot!' I stamped my foot and screamed. Then I burst into tears. I touched the wet little drops and held them toward her. 'See, I'm not a robot. This is proof.

I might have been made of metal once, but not anymore. Like Pinocchio, I'd turned into a real girl. So far it sucked. But there was nothing I could do about it.

I think ghostliness is a good quality. I pretend I'm dead all the time." "What?" He stopped rummaging through his locker to look at me full in the face a last. "It helps me go to sleep," I said. "That shows you don't know anything about death," Jonah said. "Do you?" I asked. He hesitated before saying "I'm a g-g-g-ghost, aren't I?" "I think being dead might be nice. Restful." "Death is not restful. It's nothing." "That's what seems restful to me," I said. "The nothing. Not being here. Not being anywhere.

its more a trance, jonah said. the whole world is pressing in on me, like a weight on my chest, slowly pushing me down ans down. and there's nothing between me and this weight but my flimsy skin. Its not enough. It won't protect me. It doesn't keep anything out. The outside will keep pressing until my ribs are crushed.

No amount of wishing will bring back the dead.

She decided that day to study Russian, the language of violence, terror, and absurdity. She knew she would never be bored.

The students adore your father,' a perfumed woman said to me. 'Aren't you lucky to live with such a charming man!' 'He's even more charming at home,' Mom said. 'Isn't he, Bea? He rides a unicycle through the house -' '- even up and down the stairs,' I added. 'He juggles eggs as he makes breakfast every morning -' '- which he serves to us in bed of course,' I said. '- and pulls fragrant bouquets out of his ass,' Mom finished. 'He's just a joy.

What else could have happened? Car wouldn't start? House caught on fire? Escaped convict climbed through his bedroom window and tied him with duct tape? Poison eggnog? Or maybe I just didn't matter to him.

You're a big sister?' I was shocked. She seemed so good-natured and compassionate.