• “Richie Rich is just a person,” Orla said.
  • The kitchen window groaned open, and Jimi shouted out, “Blue! Your boys are out front, looking like they’re fixing to bury a body.” Again? Blue thought.
  • “No homework. I got suspended,” Blue replied. “Get the fuck out,” Ronan said, but with admiration. “Sargent, you asshole.” Blue reluctantly allowed him to bump fists with her as Gansey eyed her meaningfully in the rearview mirror.
      • Nice, are u like, bffs now?
  • “For what?” “Emptying another student’s backpack over his car. I don’t really want to talk about it.” “I do,” Ronan said. “Well, I don’t. I’m not proud of it.” Ronan patted her leg. “I’ll be proud for you.”
  • He understood his friendship with Ronan and Adam – they both represented qualities that he both lacked and admired, and they liked the versions of himself that he also liked.
  • His toga was tied with more care than any tie Gansey had ever knotted, and Gansey had knotted a lot of ties. He was wearing the most chrome watch Gansey had ever seen, and Gansey had seen a lot of chromed things.
  • His black spiked hair strove frantically upward, and Gansey had seen a lot of things striving frantically upward.
      • LIKE OKAY we get it maggie. She's writing this book as if we're stupid
  • Adam lived in an apartment located above the office of St. Agnes Catholic Church, a fortuitous combination that focused most of the objects of Ronan’s worship into one downtown block.
  • He had memorized the shape of Adam’s hands in particular: the way his thumb jutted awkwardly, boyishly; the roads of the prominent veins; the large knuckles that punctuated his long fingers. In dreams Ronan put them to his mouth.
  • In this other place, it was easy to tell that the music was the sound of Ronan’s soul. Hungry and prayerful, it whispered of dark places, old places, fire and sex.
  • Ronan Lynch’s stare was a snake on the pavement where you wanted to walk. It was a match left on your pillow. It was pressing your lips together and tasting your own blood.
  • Surely Declan had better things to be doing in D.eclan C.ity than spending half his day in a town he hated with a family he had never wanted to be a part of.
      • I'm starting to feel bad for declan, like "never wanted to be a part of"? i think he felt left out of his own family and with good reason, his father is a dreamer who dreamed the perfect son and then that son dreamed another son and his mother is a dream thing too, like wouldn't you be angry? everyone is special and he came out with no powers, it's not that he doesn't want o be included in the family, it's that the family never made an effort to include him.
  • For a moment, he saw how his brother was caught inside them, watching them soar furiously around his face, each gold sun firing gold and white, and when he saw the spacious longing in Declan’s face, he realized how much Declan had missed by growing up neither dreamer nor dreamt. This had never been his home. The Lynches had never tried to make it Declan’s home.
      • THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I SAID
  • “It’s a shrine,” Piper said. “To what?” “Me.
  • “To think you could have been dreaming the cure for cancer,” Blue said. “Look, Sargent,” Ronan retorted. “I was gonna dream you some eye cream last night since clearly modern medicine’s doing jack shit for you, but I nearly had my ass handed to me by a death snake from the fourth circle of dream hell, so you’re welcome.” Blue looked appropriately touched. “Ah, thanks, man.” “No problem, bro.”
  • “I stopped asking how. I just did it. The head is too wise. The heart is all fire.”
dec 2 2016 ∞
dec 2 2016 +