Is that all?" she whispered. Gansey closed his eyes. "That's all there is.

If she and Sam ever had kids, they'd be gluten-intolerant out of self-defence.

She screamed, the high scream that was neither human nor animal but something terrible in between, the sort of sound that you never forget no matter how many beautiful things you hear afterward.

There was no sun; there was no light. I was dying. I couldn't remember what the sky looked like. But I didn't die. I was lost to a sea of cold, and then I was reborn into a world of warmth.

I guess I make things that need energy stronger. I'm like a walking battery.

I'd learned a long time ago that one of the finest weapons in my arsenal was my ability to invade personal space

There was nothing particularly intimate about the way they sat, but something about the scene made Gansey feel strange, like he’d heard an unpleasant statement and later forgotten everything about the words but the way they had made him feel.