You're incredibly, absolutely, extremely, supremely, unbelievably different.

Because life goes on, L. The birds do their thing, and the bees do theirs. Seeds get scattered, and everything grows back.

It's crazy what you see if you aren't really looking.

The stuffs you're good at and the stuffs you're bad at are just different parts of the same thing. Same goes for people you love and the people you don't. And the people who love you and the people who don't. The only thing that mattered was that you cared about a few people.

I watched the way they looked at each other. Any idiot could see they were in love, even if they were the only two idiots who couldn't.

I watched for her hair to curl, the telltale Caster breeze. It didn't move. This wasn't Caster magic she was working. It was another kind altogether. She couldn't charm her way out from under Macon's watch. She would have to resort to older magic, stronger magic, the kind that had worked best on Macon from the time she first moved to Ravenwood. Plain old love.

A Seer's moon, a Siren's tears, Nineteen Mortal, Wayward fears, Incubus graves and Caster rivers, The Final Page the End delivers.