Do you think," Maxon asked, "that I could still call you 'my dear'?" "Not a chance," I whispered. "I'll keep trying. I don't have it in me to give up." And I believed him. It was annoying to think he'd press that issue. "Did you call all of them that?" I nodded my head toward the rest of the room. "Yes, and they all seemed to like it." "That is the exact reason why I don't.

If you don’t want me to be in love with you, you’re going to have to stop looking so lovely. First thing tomorrow I’m having your maids sew some potato sacks together for you.

I don’t think any girl in all of Illéa could have been smiling more than me.

Try patting them on the back or shoulder and telling them everything is going to be fine. Lots of times when girls cry, they don't want you to fix the problem, they just want to be consoled.

She had brillant red hair, like honey and roses and the sun all together.

I can’t help it." I sighed. "One can never help being born into perfection.

You’re the only person who really knows me. The only person I feel I truly know myself.” “Knowledge isn’t love,” I contradicted.