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please wish that i might be there. please miss me. you say you do. it makes me infinitely happy to think that you should, though i can't think why you would, with the exciting life you have...

je t'aime. aujourd'hui, ce soir. demain. pour toujours. si je vivais mille ans, je t'appartiendrais pour tous. si je vivais mille vies, je te ferais mienne dans chacune d'elles.

hello darling, sorry about that. sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we lived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell and how i ruined everything by saying it out loud. especially that, but i should have known.

no, somebody always needs to go first. i know this. i go first.

and i would hide my face in you, and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more.

do you understand, sir, do you understand what it means when you have absolutely nowhere to turn?

he had never really met anyone else like himself, and even though henry was far from gansey's twin, he was the closest that gansey had yet found.

i wanted to hurt you but the victory is that i could not stomach it.

i was wounded early, and early i learned that wounds made me.

i never stopped loving you. not for a minute. i have you inside me like a disease.

and i wonder if anyone is really happy. i hope they are. i really hope they are.

the number of hours we have together is actually not so large. please linger near the door uncomfortably instead of just leaving.

the dragons are dangerous, yes. they can do harm, yes. but they're not evil. they're beneath our morality, like any animal. or beyond it. they have nothing to do with it. we must choose and choose again. the animals need only be and do. we're yoked, and they're free.

“what would your father say to me?” he wondered aloud as i turned wearily away from him. “i don't know,” i told him bluntly. “i never knew him. only you.”

i appreciate your concern. none of this is your fault. it's me. it's me and my head.

and i would hide my face in you, and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more.

some wounds never vanish. yet little by little, i learned to love my life.

if you give me the slightest hint of abandonment and withdrawal, i would outdo you.

i've gotten so good about not flinching at the sound of your name that people don't know i'd still throw myself mouth-open into the ocean for the chance to drown somewhere you might see it.

“when i reread what i've written,” clarice told him, “i feel like i'm swallowing my own vomit.”