I've got just as much luck with locks as I do hearts. In other words, no luck at all.

Sad truth is. . . we all end up alone on some death bed. Yeah? No way to take anybody else's place and no way we can be lying on the same one.”

I was at the edge of the white-wed cloth. My shoes filled with concrete, as did my head, looking at the empty shell of what was once a woman full of wonder.

“Any way to make someone feel not so alone?” she asked.

“The only thing anyone can ever do is help someone feel a little less lonely before they get there.”

“How does someone do that?”

“Memories. Help create memories. Better ones. Ones to replace the old.

If girls could spit venom, it'd be through their eyes.

Fate would have it that the timing of your birth determines your measure of luck. You’re either born lucky or you’re not, though the only way to know for sure is to test it. The problem with that is most people find out they’re not lucky at the worst possible moment, usually in the throes of death or arrest.

Fate would have it that the timing of your birth determines your measure of luck. You’re either born lucky or you’re not, though the only way to know for sure is to test it. The problem with that is most people find out they’re not lucky at the worst possible moment, usually in the throes of death or arrest.

It's just not the right timing, not bad luck.