I know not to trust anyone," i say. "Except..." Holly studies my face. "You do fancy him, don't you? What a strange, wonderful, repressed place this is.

I found it." "People find pennies," Gansey replied. "Or car keys. Or four-leaf clovers." "And ravens," Ronan said. "You're just jealous 'cause" - at this point, he had to stop to regroup his beer-sluggish thoughts - "you didn't find one, too.

Knowing what I was, and wanting me, anyway.

Sailing to an island unknown Failing to find your way home you walk under a sea leagues beneath us

The journal and Gansey were clearly long acquainted, and he wanted her to know. This is me. The real me.

As I handed her the bag, the old scars on my wrist throbbed with buried memories.

names are a way to keep people in your mind