here we were again , always saying good-bye

It wasn’t a touch that said I need more. It was a touch that said I want this.

I couldn't think of anything to say. I was idiotically entranced by the way he said "Grace." The tone of it. The way his lips formed the vowels. The timbre of his voice stuck in my head like music.

I said uselessly, "Sam, don't go." Sam cupped my face in his hands and looked me in the eyes. His eyes were yellow, sad, wolf, mine. "These stay the same. Remember that when you look at me. Remember it's me. Please.

Gansey could’ve had any and all of the friends that he wanted. Instead he had chosen the three of them, three guys who should’ve, for three different reasons, been friendless.

Do you have it on your person?" my father asked. "Jesus" I replied. "My person has it in her purse.

One happy day for every falling leaf you catch. Sam's voice was low.