My father said once that if I didn't have my mother's ginger hair, I wouldn't blush or curse as easily. Which I though was unfair. I hardly ever curse or blush, even though I've had plenty of days that required both.

Blue thought about what Gansey had said, about being wealthy in love. And she thought about Adam, still collapsed on their sofa downstairs. If he had no one to wrap their arms around him when he was sad, could he be forgiven for letting his anger lead him?

I won't let this be my good-bye. I've folded one thousand paper crane memories of me and Grace, and I've made my wish. I will find a cure. And then I will find Grace.

It's easy to convince men to love you, Puck. All you have to do is be a mountain they have to climb or a poem they don't understand.

You're not going to die," I told her, lifting my head to look at her. "I'm not done writing songs about you yet.

What are you wishing for?' Grace interrupted. 'To kiss you,' I said to her.

...and we sat like that, one creature in two bodies, for a long time, until I forgot what I'd been upset about and I was myself again.