Saturday, April 9, 2011

Delirium (Quotes)

This... this is the magic that I've been sucked into for the last three days.

And I remind myself that I probably imagined the whole thing - the message, the meeting up.  He's probably sitting in his apartment somewhere, doing course work for his classes.  He's probably already forgotten about the two girls he met at the lab complex today.  He was probably just being nice earlier, making casual conversation.
It's for the best.  But no matter how many times I repeat it, the strange, hollow feeling in my stomach doesn't go away.  And ridiculous as it is, I can't shake the persistent, needling feeling that I've forgotten something, or missed something, or lost something forever.
-- Chapter 6, Page 86
I bet you a million bucks that Lauren Oliver is proud of those lines.  I'm proud of those lines, and I didn't even write them.  I'm proud of them because they make me feel.  They become my own.  Am I missing something?  Am I paying attention to life as it passes me by?  Have I lost something forever?

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Overhead, the sky is packed tight with enormous black storm clouds.  It's supposed to thunderstorm later, which seems fitting.  Beyond the gate, at the end of a short, paved road, the Crypts looms black and imposing.  Silhouetted against he dark sky, it looks like something out of a nightmare.  A dozen or so tiny windows - like the multiple staring eyes of a spider - are scattered across its stone facade.  A short field surrounds the Crypts on this side, enclosed within the gates.  I remember it from my childhood as a meadow, but it is actually just a lawn, closely tended and bare in patches.  Still, the vivid green of the grass - where the grass is actually managing to assert itself through the dirt - seems out of place.  This seems like sun should never shine: a place on the edge, at the limit, a place completely removed from time and happiness in life.
-- Chapter 21, Pages 339-340
I love this description.  It totally sets the mood, and once again, it makes me feel.  I love it.

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