Citações
“It-It burns when you look at m-me,” I whisper, my tongue feeling heavy.
“Flames dance in your eyes, in them the fire resides.
Turning me into ashes. Black and p-powdery.
It…It’s a slow process. My disintegration.”
“Flames dance in your eyes, in them the fire resides.
Turning me into ashes. Black and p-powdery.
It…It’s a slow process. My disintegration.”
“No, you’re not. You hate me. You’re always giving me a death glare, like I’m responsible for, I don’t know, terrorism or global warming or something.”
A cup of coffee is a pocketful of sunshine for you.
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