“What did you do before?” “I used to run a lot.”“Cross country? Track?”“From the cops, actually.”

“It's true what they say, Love is a wicked game,A game so wickedly played,I am at your command in your wicked games.”

“Magic. For the first time, she heard the word and felt a twist in her stomach, a little thrill. Having that kind of power, that kind of influence... it was a wicked thing.”

“I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you.And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you.No, I don't want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart)No, I don't want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart)With you (This world is only gonna break your heart)What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way.What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you.What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way.What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you and,I want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart)No, I want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart)With you.”

“Monsters are easy, Miss Rook. They're monsters. But a monster in a suit? That's basically just a wicked man, and a wicked man is a more dangerous thing by far.”

“She also understood there was a hole in her heart where her son should be, that she was a wicked, selfish woman for wishing him back.”

“There is one fairly good reason for fighting - and that is, if the other man starts it. You see, wars are a great wickedness, perhaps the greatest wickedness of a wicked species. They are so wicked that they must not be allowed. When you can be perfectly certain that the other man started them, then is the time when you might have a sort of duty to stop them. ”

“What did you do before?” “I used to run a lot.”“Cross country? Track?”“From the cops, actually.”

“I am a wicked man... But do you know, gentlemen, what was the main point about my wickedness? The whole thing, precisely was, the greatest nastiness precisely lay in my being shamefully conscious every moment, even in moments of the greatest bile, that I was not only not a wicked man but was not even an embittered man, that I was simply frightening sparrows in vain, and pleasing myself with it.”

“The aftermath of bearing shackles is an exquisite devastation, fraught with the ravages of survival. Even though one is no longer held captive—be that from a person, a government, or one’s inner self—the scars are deeply engraved into one’s psyche, and there’s no remedy for the soul. Many have the misconception that freedom equals happiness forever and ever.That’s a wicked delusion.”

“Mandy was thinking back to when she was five years old, when she, her parents and Jud went outside before Christmas and had a snowball fight with the gray snow of Sydney Mines. “This is a wicked blast,” Jud would say, and Mandy would snap photos with a 35mm disposable film camera, photos she wished very much she could step into sometimes.”