I leaned across the table towards the crumb-thrower. "Do that again," I said, loud enough to be heard over the opera singer, Dolly, my mother, and the smell of the breadsticks, "and I will sell your firstborn child to the devil.

One thousand brilliant stars punched holes in my consciousness, pricking me with longing. I could stare at the stars for hours, their infinite number and depth pulling me into a part of myself that I ignored during the day.

If I only have ten minutes, Sam, this is what I want to say. You're not the best of us. You're more than that. You're better than all of us. If I only have ten minutes, I would tell you to go out there and live. I'd say...please take your guitar and sing your songs to as many people as you can. Please fold a thousand more of those damn birds of yours. Please kiss that girl a million times.

I think they're here because I thought they ought to be here," Gansey said. Blue replied sarcastically. "Okay, God.

The way Gansey saw it was this: if you had a special knack for finding things, it meant you owed the world to look.

I wanted a library like this...[] A cave of words that I'd made myself.

I folded myself against her body, breathing in the smell of my new life and matching my heartbeat to hers" Sam, Linger