What was love, really? Flowers, chocolate, and poetry? Or was it something else? Was it being able to finish someone's jokes? Was it having absolute faith that someone was there at your back? Was it knowing someone so well that they instantly understood why you did the things you did—and shared those same beliefs?

He froze, and for one moment, we stood locked in time. I could feel the silk of his shirt against my skin and the warmth of his body. The lingering scent of the overpriced cologne he wore floated around me. No smoke for a change. I’d always told him the cologne couldn’t be worth what he spent, but suddenly, I reconsidered. It was amazing.

Because I’ve got a lot more terms of endearment to use. Honey pie. Sugarplum. Bread pudding," “Why are they all high-calorie foods?

A different word usually came to my mind when I thought of Yeva, though it did sound a lot like “witch.

I couldn't stop staring at the cave, back where Dimitri was, back where half of my soul was.

"I'm sure it is," she replied. Her expression turned fierce, making her look far different from the scattered teacher I knew. "But listen to me when I say this. You are exceptional, talented, and brilliant young woman. Do not ever let anyone make you feel like you're less. Do not ever let anyone make you feel invisible. Do not let anyone - not even a teacher who constantly sends you for coffee - push you around." She put her glasses back on and began randomly lifting up pieces of papers. At last, she found a pen and grinned triumphantly. "Now, then. What is your brother's name?"

You're beautiful in battle. ... Like an avenging angel come to deliver the justice of heaven." "Funny. That is kind of why I'm here." "Angels fall, Rose.