Violet

“You killed him."
I held up my index finger and my thumb, slowly closing the gap between them, peering over at Dre through the tiny slit that remained. "Little bit."
"I don't think you can kill someone a little bit."
"Oh, well then, a lot bit. I killed him a lot bit.”
― T.M. Frazier, Preppy: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater, Part One

“When I look in your eyes and no longer recognize my brother in there, I will not stand by and let you slip away.”
My gaze drops back to the sink, and tears build behind my eyelashes. “I’m fucking lost, bro.”
“Nope. You’re not.” He puts both hands on my shoulders. “I will die before I let you go, you hear me? You’ll be back. You’ll be fighting for this shit too, but until you’re there, until you get your fight back, I’m fighting for you.”
― J.B. Salsbury, The Final Fight

“Why do you have a gun?” I asked, without thinking of how stupid my question really was. Maybe, if he ever put his god dammed shirt back on, my case of stupid would turn back off.
“Why do I have a gun?” he repeated, like it was the ridiculous question that it was. “’Cause throwing bullets by hand isn’t exactly effective.”
― T.M. Frazier, Preppy: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater, Part One

“I'm just waiting for the one that makes me feel like forever wouldn't be long enough.”
― Carian Cole, Torn