What’s wrong?” asked Seth, seeing my frown. “That new drummer. Alec. He hit on me earlier, and now he’s moving in on Casey. I think he’s one of those guys who thinks plying girls with liquor is the only way to get laid.” “Wait. I thought I was the only guy who knew that secret.

If he wants to tell you, he'll tell you. End of story, Rose. Besides, you certainly keep your share of secrets too. You two have a lot in common." "Are you kidding? He's arrogant, sarcastic, likes to intimidate people, and—oh." Okay. Maybe she had a point.

Why not wear a scar of Motherhood? Better than a tattoo or a mark of Honor. Let the world know what you've achieved.

Hope implies that you think you have a chance at something.

Then it's settled," I said. "We'll do a dream conference call." That love and rapture faltered. "Wait. How is it settled? How did we go from me declaring my love for you to me being okay with a dream?" "It's Adrian Ivashkov logic. Don't try to understand it. Just roll with it.

If I let myself love you, I won't throw myself in front of her. I'll throw myself in front of you.

We're pieces on a gameboard, Dr. March, and some of us are more powerful than others. You. Me. Her. We're the ones the gods want. We're the ones they're fighting over.