The best-case scenario here is that you make friends with a boy who's going to die." "Ah," said Calla, in a very, very knowing way. "Now I see." "Don't psychoanalyse me," her mother said. "I already have. And I say again, 'ah'.

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

I'm so tired I never want to wake up again. But I've figured out now that it was never them that made me feel that way. It was just me, all along.

I thought I heard---" Gansey broke off. His eyes dropped to where Adam held Blue's hand. Again his face was somewhat puzzled by the fact of their hand-holding. Adam's grip tightened, although she didn't think he meant for it to.

Gansey studied Adam's erratic handwriting. His letters always looked like they were running from something.

Adam didn't look at him when he said, finally, "It doesn't matter how you say it. It's what you wanted, in the end. All your things in one place, all under your roof. Everything you own right where you can see.

Listen to you sounding all badass. I bet you're just listening to a CD called 'The Sounds of Crime' while you cruise for chicks outside the Old Navy in your Camaro.