Don't be sorry you loved him. That's part of you, part you have to let go.

You're strong—you're so, so strong. It's why I love you.

Who... who are you?' I asked at last. It was true. I had left a body in the park, but seriously, what was I supposed to do? Drag him back to my hotel and tell my bellhop my friend had had too much to drink?

What's with all the running, anyway? I mean, I realize the importance of stamina and all that, but shouldn't I be moving on to something with a little hitting? They're still killing me in group practice.” "Maybe you should hit harder.

Do not do that again," he said stiffly. "Don't kiss me back then," I retorted. He stared at me for what seemed like forever. "I don't give 'Zen lessons' to hear myself talk. I don't give them because you're another student. I'm doing this to teach you control." "You're doing a great job," I said bitterly.

Oh,” she said. “You can rest assured that I will kill him. Mostly this is to emphasize what I said before: no more time to lounge around and decide with no consequences. For every moment you waste deliberating today, the Oak King will be in the hands of my torturers, experiencing the most excruciating pain. Your delay extends that agony.” “Oh, irony,” murmured Dorian.

Having your own, um, cave at eighteen is pretty cool.