I think that whenever a book is not a challenge, I'm telling the wrong story.

I don't think I'd like to argue with you," I say. "I think it would be a very dissatisfying pastime.

Ronan's smile was sharp and hooked as one of the creature's claws. "'A sword is never a killer; it is a tool in the killer's hand'." "I can't believe Noah didn't stick around to help." "Sure you can. Never trust the dead.

I could still smell her on my fur. It clung to me, a memory of another world. I was drunk with it, with the scent of her. I'd got too close. The smell of summer on her skin, the half-recalled cadence of her voice, the sensation of her fingers on my fur. Every bit of me sang with the memory of her closeness. Too close. I couldn't stay away.

Gansey turned the key. The engine turned over once, paused for the briefest of moments - and then roared to deafening life. The Camaro lived to fight another day. The radio was even working, playing the Stevie Nicks song that always sounded to Gansey like it was about a one-winged dove.

I wasn’t sure which of us was being more selfish—her, for wanting something that no one could promise, or me, for not promising her something that was too painfully impossible to want.

Sleep deprivation made his life an imaginary thing, his days a ribbon floating aimlessly in water." - Whelk