Maybe she'd always been there. Maybe strangers enter your heart first and then you spent the rest of your life searching for them.

I would pick them when they bloomed. And when she called me home for supper, I'd place them in her hair and the contrast would take my breath away.

She knows that feeling too. Of believing that each time someone says her name, it’s to tell her that something bad has happened.

Santangelo is irritated. "We're not suppose to be collaborating. It's supposed to be a war and you're supposed to stick to the boundaries." "We've seen you in your jocks," she reminds him. "Taylor and Griggs have pashed. You've broken into your father's police station for us. Don't you think the war has lost a bit of its tension?

If we forget who we lost, then we forget who we once were, and if we forget who we once were, we lose sight of who we are now.

Phaedra of Alonso’s death was a never-ending pain that gnawed at his insides. It made him a prisoner in his own cottage.

He watched as Finnikin swung onto the horse, his sleeve stained with blood. Froi liked the way Finnikin reached behind him and took Evanjalin's hand, placing it around his waist. It made everything seem normal because Finnikin always wanted to touch her.