I was against felonies when a misdemeanor would do.

I couldn't imagine anyone ever reading a book enough to make it look like that. It looked like it had been driven over by a school bus after someone had taken a bath with it.

Sam:"Okay, what words would you use then?" I leaned back in the seat, thinking, as Sam looked at me doubtfully. He was right to look doubtful. My head didn't work with words very well- at least not in this abstract, descriptive sort of way. Grace:"Sensitive" I tried. Sam translated: "Squishy" Grace:"Creative" Sam:"Dangerously emo" Grace:"Thoughtful" Sam:"Feng shui." I laughed so hard I snorted. Grace:"How did you get feng shui out of thoughtful?" Sam:"You know, because in feng shui, you arrange funiture and plants and stuff in thoughtful ways.

Luke', I said, and immediately added, 'My boyfriend.' My supernatural, doomed, gorgeous, killer boyfriend.

I feel like I have so many stories basting in my mind, and they come busting out when they're ready.

He was a patient with a diagnosis that he couldn't understand.

He hadn't realized yet that Gansey could persuade even the sun to pause and give him the time.