Oh, filmmakers, please don't take my soft book and turn it into a horror, or take my horror and make it soft.

Boys,' she says, 'just aren't very good at being afraid.

Arbores loqui latine. The trees speak Latin.

I think that’s a mercy of this island, actually, that it won’t give us our terrible memories for long, but let us keep the good ones for as long as we want them.

Sam: “I—it’s—I’m not an animal.

My chest ached, my body speaking a language my head didn't quite understand. I waited. But Grace, the only person in the world I wanted to know me, just ran a wanting finger over the cover of one of the new hardcovers and walked out of the store without ever realising I was there, right within reach.

How do you know I wouldn't have just been happy with the truth? I don’t care if my father was a deadbeat named Butternut. It doesn't change anything right now.” “His name wasn't really Butternut, was it?” Gansey asked Adam in a low voice.