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Seven Years in Tibet
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Cassandra Clare
“Will looked horrified. "What kind of monster could possibly hate chocolate?”
Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel

Suzanne Collins
“What about Gale?"
"He's not a bad kisser either," I say shortly.
"And it was okay with both of us? You kissing the other?" He asks.
"No. It wasn't okay with either of you. But I wasn't asking your permission," I tell him.
Peeta laughs again, coldly, dismissively. "Well, you're a piece of work, aren't you?”
Suzanne Collins, Mockingjay

Ally Carter
“It is an occupational hazard that anyone who has spent her life learning how to lie eventually becomes bad at telling the truth.”
Ally Carter, Heist Society

Suzanne Collins
“Why not? It's true. My best hope is to not disgrace myself and..." He hesitates.

And what?" I say.

I don't know how to say it exactly. Only... I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?" he asks. I shake my head. How could he die as anyone but himself? "I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not."

I bite my lip feeling inferior. While I've been ruminating on the availability of trees, Peeta has been struggling with how to maintain his identity. His purity of self. "Do you mean you won't kill anyone?" I ask.

No, when the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to... to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games," says Peeta.

But you're not," I say. "None of us are. That's how the Games work."

Okay, but within that frame work, there's still you, there's still me," he insists. "Don't you see?"

A little, Only... no offense, but who cares, Peeta?" I say.

I do. I mean what else am I allowed to care about at this point?" he asks angrily. He's locked those blue eyes on mine now, demanding an answer.”
Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games

Rachel Hawkins
“I heard the man and woman cry a warning as I frantically racked my brain for some sort of throat-repairing spell, which I was clearly about to need. Of course the only words that I actually managed to yell at the werewolf as he ran at me were, 'BAD DOG!'

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of blue light on my left. Suddenly, the werewolf seemed to smack into an invisible wall just inches in front of me....

"You know," someone said off to my left, "I usually find a blocking spell to be a lot more effective than yelling 'Bad dog,' but maybe that's just me.”
Rachel Hawkins, Hex Hall

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