Life is a weirdly themed party

That is why I take the younger ones, you see. You already give parts of your hearts away so easily--little fragments attached to celebrities, to hobbies, to ill-fated love affairs. Your kind have the best chance at survival.

We're all just moments and most of us don't matter. We study less than one percent of all humanity in our history books.

I like to keep my dreams attainable. Eat cheese, sleep on a nice bed, have my work in the same museum as Rothko--the usual.

I just want to matter,' he said unsmiling. It was like pulling a curtain back, peering behind a mask made of smiles and quips. This was the real James, this young, bright, desperate thing. There was a burning intensity to his eyes, and she saw for the first time a boy who would sell his heart--not for some hobby, but because he thought it was the only way to life the life he wanted. They had that in common.

But were they truly victims? If they made a deal, knowing fully what they were trading for a wish--but then again, could a person ever truly know the consequences of giving away their heart?