You're such a cynic," Molly said. "I think cynics are playful and cute.
Master of the Dark Shadow. For I also, Niniel, had my darkness, in which dear things were lost; but now I have overcome it, I deem.
Then Day reaches out and touches my hand with his. He encloses it in a handshake. And just like that, I am linked with him again, I feel the pulse of our bond and his- tory and love through our hands, like a wave of magic, the return of a long-lost f...
I hope,” he replies softly, “to get to know you again. If you are open to it. There is a fog around you that I would like to clear away.
Day, the champion of the people, the one who can't bear to see those around him suffer on his behalf, who would gladly give his life for those he loves.
I reach out to touch one of the walls, imagining that I can feel his life and warmth through it, and I look around again, up toward the rooftops and then all the way to the night sky where a few faint stars can be seen, and there I think I really see...
I know you don't love me that way. Don't you think I know that by now? But you know how I feel about you. No one does." "Tell me, then." "Day, you mean more to me than some crush. When the entire world turned its back on me and left me to die, you to...
Day will move on and live his life. So will I. We will be okay. Someday, perhaps in the far and distant future, we'll find each other again.
No. I will never let you hurt Day like that. Not the way I've already hurt him.
I'm not loyal enough to the Republic to stamp that loyalty right on my face. Leave that to June.
I'd forgotten that a boy from the streets is no match for the future Princeps.
Someone's going to be very pleased to see you." "I don't think the Elector will be as excited as you think." "I wasn't talking about the Elector." My heart jumps at that.
I lean my head against my knee and close my eyes. Even the illusion of June is enough to send a stabbing pain through my chest. Hell. I miss her so much.
My heart's been torn wide open, just like I feared it would be, and I have no willpower to close it back up. Any barrier I might've succeeded in putting up around myself, any resistance I might've built up against my feelings for her, is now complete...
What's the point of keeping in touch with the girl you're crazy about, when you're dying?
We could endlessly reminisce, live in the past to an unhealthy degree, then politely kill each other some winter night before bedtime, stirring poison into our cups of whiskey-spiked chamomile tea, wearing party hats. Then, nervous about our double h...
Would you give up your vengeance against someone you hate if it meant saving someone you love? Would you want your dreams to come true if it meant granting your enemy's dying wish?
Dying for love might be pitiable, but it wasn't much different, finally, from any other kind of dying.
Losing someone you love is harder. One minute they're there, the next they're gone. There were times I wished they would rise up from the dead.
I think about the Old Ones, that they have a past but no history. I think about the inevitability of death, and whether it’s not that very inevitability that inspires us to take photographs and make scrapbooks and tell stories. That that’s how we...
It was how it had been with the madman among the tombs, that their number was legion, far in excess at any rate if the number listed on the back of the door as the room's maximum occupancy.
