Ronan didn't need physics. He could intimidate even a piece of plywood into doing what he wanted.

I don't think I ever believed in love, not really. Just though it was something James Bond made up, a long time ago, to get laid.

Gansey threw open his door. Gripping the roof of the car, he slid himself out. Even that gesture, Ronan noted, was wild-Gansey, Gansey-on-fire. Like he pulled himself from the car because ordinary climbing out was too slow. This was going to be a night.

I didn't want normal until I didn't have it anymore

I'd found heaven and grabbed it as tightly as I could, but it was unraveling, an insubstantial thread sliding between my fingers, too fine to hold.

I never taught him to break him thumb." "That's Gansey for you. Only learns enough to be superficially competent." "Loser," Ronan agreed, and he was himself again.

I considered calling Grace to ask her what I should say to a reticent suicidal werewolf, but I'd left my phone somewhere. Car, maybe.