A second book that makes you rethink the first book is the Holy Grail of a series.

I’m Lila, and yes, he’s crazy. But you must have noticed that before now. He was crazy back when I knew him, and he’s obviously gotten crazier over time.

He runs to the sink to spit it out. I grin. There’s nothing quite as funny as someone else’s misery.

Everyone danced -- sweaty bodies packed tight, drunk with sound.

Occasionally, there are battles in the sky. One likes to imagine the angels are always triumphant. One does not like to think of the ancient and terrible scales balancing the infernal and divine as wobbling back and forth. Tilting freely, to and fro. One does not like to think that sometimes it is the angel that falls.

Some promises aren’t worth keeping.

We all wind up drawn to what we're afraid of, drawn to try to find a way to make ourselves safe from a thing by crawling inside of it, by loving it, by becoming it.