Don't worry about me," I finally said. "Really. I'm more worried about you." And even more worried about where Graves is. "Are you?" A fey smile lit his face, and I caught my breath. It was a shock to see him look so happy. "Well, then.

I don't believe in getting clothes that just look pretty or that'll fall apart—they have to stand up to a lot of abuse.

What do you say when someone takes on a really bad ass, murdering sucker for you? There just aren't words for that.

To my everlasting relief, he’d also stopped with the starch a few years back . The military made him big on spray starch, but I point-blank refused to touch the stuff after a while. He finally gave up doing it himself, and I manfully restrained myself from pointing out that the world didn’t explode when he did. And they say maturity is just for adults.

Better to be strong than pretty and useless.

Touch me again, and it will be your last act in life - Blue Eyes.

It truly sucks to doubt your friends when you only have one or two of them, I realized.