Neal Shusterman (born November 12, 1962) is an American writer of young-adult fiction. He won the National Book Award for Young People's Literature for Challenger Deep.
The rides are different for everyone. I'm convinced of that now. I mean, sure, there are some we ride together. Either we find ourselves drawn to some common experience, or maybe we're pulled in by the people we care about. Our friends, our families can drag us onto coasters and Tilt-A-Whirls that are really meant for them. But in the end, no matter whose rides we find ourselves on, the experience is all our own.
Because if their own parents didn't care enough about them to keep them, who would want them in Heaven?
The Bill of Life was signed, the Unwind Accord went into effect, and the war was over. Everyone was so happy to end the war, no one cared about the consequences
Anger is only our friend when we know its caliber and how to aim it.
Statistically speaking, there's a better chance that some part of me will go on to greatness somewhere in the world. I'd rather be partly great than entirely useless.
Milestone! This is a momentous occasion," he tells her cheerily. "It should be witnessed by a friend. " She throws him an icy gaze, and he does a verbal back pedal. "Aaaand since no friends are present, I'll have to do.
He also keeps his silence when Bible passages become shredded to justify unwinding, and kids start to see the face of God in the fragments.
Would you rather die, or be unwound? Now he finally knows the answer. Maybe this is what he wanted. Maybe it's why he stood there and taunted Roland. Because he'd rather be killed with a furious hand than dismembered with cool indifference.
Fight, flight, and screw up royaly.
Roland glares at Connor and Connor glares back. Then he says what he always says at moments like this. "Nice socks. " Although Roland doesn't look down right away, it derails him just enough for him to back off. He doesn't check to see if his socks match until he thinks Connor isn't looking. And the moment he does, Connor snickers. Small victories are better than none.
You never realize the holes a person leaves behind until you fall into them.
How easy is murder when one calls it by a different name? How much easier is it for the conscience to condone "reaping" than "killing"-and when one knows that death isn't the end, does it stop the killing hand for fear of retribution, or does it simply make it easier to kill, because, if life continues, how can murder be murder at all?
Fine," Connor tells him. "Think about stuff until your head explodes. But the only thing I want to think about is surviving to eighteen. " I find your shallowness both refreshing and disappointing at the same time. Do you think that means I need therapy?
You think you want to know the secrets of the universe. You think you want to see the way things all fit together. You believe in your heart of hearts that enlightenment will save the world and set you free. Maybe it will. But the path to enlightenment is rarely a pleasant one.
You see, a conflict always begins with an issue - a difference of opinion, an argument. But by the time it turns into a war, the issue doesn't matter anymore, because now it's about one thing and one thing only: how much each side hates the other.
We can lie to ourselves, saying we believe one thing, and sometimes we convince other's it's true, with the hope that by convincing others, we can convince ourselves. Wars are often waged not because of what we believe, but because of the things we want others to believe.
That's wisdom you can take to the grave, and dig up when you need it!
A family is a collection of strangers trapped in a web of DNA and forced to cope.
Walls don't fall without effort.
. . . New Beginning to the same old story