What are you going to do? What do you want to do?” she prompted. “I’m going to go try to help Niall. He’s not acting like himself, and I have a theory on what’s wrong,” he told her. “Then afterward I'm going to ask you to marry me.

Have you ever tried?" "No." Then don't tell me I can't.

It wasn't the tattoo that had changed her, had given her repossession of her body. It was her actions, her choices. It was finding the path when it looked like there weren't any paths to be found.

I'd stop anyone from taking that smile from you. I would, if I were allowed.

He leaned back for a moment to tug her shirt down her arms, with the same wicked, lovley smile that had first stolen her breath years ago.

Some mortals--like you--are already half in love with death. It is who you are, and I'll not make it harder on you by telling you things you don't need to know. Ask me again when you die. Then I'll tell you everything, anything, nothing.

As if fixing the little errors would made the big stuff manageable.