Mystery dunked her thumb into her drink again and licked it off. 'What's your favourite verb?'
...'Dying, I guess,' Dan answered, finishing his drink and setting the empty glass down on the floor. 'The verb to die.' He knew it must have sounded like he was trying to impress her. After all, she was writing a book about premature death and cremation. But it was the truth. Almost all of his poems were about dying. Dying of love, dying of anger, dying of boredom, of anxiety; falling asleep and never waking up.
Cecily von Ziegesar - Because I'm Worth It
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