Adam had once told Gansey, "Rags to riches isn't a story anyone wants to hear until after it's done.

I wasn’t sure which of us was being more selfish—her, for wanting something that no one could promise, or me, for not promising her something that was too painfully impossible to want.

Sam came around the side of the car and stopped dead when he saw me. “Oh my God, what is THAT?” I used my thumb and middle finger to flick the multicolored pom-pom on top of my head. “In my language, we call it a HAT. It keeps my ears warm.” “Oh my God,” Sam said again, and closed the distance between us. He cupped my face in his hands and studied me. “It’s horribly cute.” He kissed me, looked at the hat, and then he kissed me again. I vowed never to lose the pom-pom hat.

But love isn't quantifiable on paper.

His heart hurt with the wanting of it, the hurt no less painful for being difficult to explain.

here we were again , always saying good-bye

It's rude to stare, but the great thing about staring at a sedated person is that they don't know you're doing it.