There's not much you need to know about the world. Except how to use a sword and trust very few.

Back in Georgie's attic, he yanks the phone out of the socket and begins scrolling down the names under dialed calls, praying to anyone who will listen. God. Baby Jesus. Saint Thomas the doubter. Saint Whoever, patron saint of losers. Praying, Please, please, don't let it be true. The first name shatters him. The second makes his head spin.

I fear that I will do something to bring harm to those I love," Froi said. "So I follow their rules to ensure that I won't." "But what if you bring harm or fail to protect those you don't know? Or don't love? Will you care as much?" "Probably not." "Then choose another bond. One written by yourself. Because it is what you do for strangers that counts in the end.

If you weren't driving, I'd kiss you senseless," I tell him. He swerves to the side of the road and stops the car abruptly. "Not driving any more.

And at that moment Jude thought something that he would never forgive himself for. He wished that he had never met any of them.

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'm not interested in those who do me wrong. There's not enough time in the day for them.