How can you tell? That I like books, I mean. The look on your face when you walked in, somehow I doubted you were that impressed by me.

You really want to know what else it was my mom said about you?" he asked. She shook her head. He didn't seem to notice. "She said you'd break my heart," he told her, and left.

I believe that authors don't have a responsibility to include "messages" in their work, but they do have a responsibility to write a world that seems true and real, never more than when expecting readers to believe in magic and angels and fairies.

I decided it was well past time to take him home and place him in bosom of his family. If you had rather I put him in an orphanage, I fully understand.

Faeries are fallen angels," said Dorothea, "cast down out of heaven for their pride." "That's the legend," Jace said. "It's also said that they're the offspring of demons and angels, which always seemed more likely to me. Good and evil, mixing together. Faeries are as beautiful as angels are supposed to be, but they have a lot of mischief and cruelty in them. And you'll notice most of them avoid midday sunlight—" "For the devil has no power," said Dorothea softly, as if she were reciting an old rhyme, "except in the dark.

Do you miss Wales?” Tessa inquired. Will shrugged lightly. “What’s to miss? Sheep and singing,” he said. “And the ridiculous language. Fe hoffwn i fod mor feddw, fyddai ddim yn cofio fy enw.” “What does that mean?” “It means ‘I wish to get so drunk I no longer remember my own name,’ Quite useful.

It’s that I think Will is angry with me,” Tessa explained. “So whatever he told you—” He laughed. “Will is angry with everyone,” he said. “I don’t let it color my judgment.