Her selfishness warred mightily with every bit of ethics she had ever learned from the women of her family.
A general agreement that time, like a story, was not a line; it was an ocean. If you couldn’t find the precise moment you were looking for, it was possible you hadn’t swum far enough. It was possible that you simply weren’t a good enough swimmer yet. It was also possible, the women grudgingly agreed, that some moments were hidden far enough in time that they really should be left to deep-sea creatures.
I remembered his laugh, like a flock of crows taking off.
Darkness, though, grows like a cave formation. Slow drips from the uneasiness harden over the surface of a slick knob of pain. Over time, the darkness crusts in unpredictable layers, growing at such a pace that one doesn’t notice it has filled every cavern under the skin until movement becomes difficult or even impossible.
Adam could not very well judge Ronan for dreaming so vastly; Adam was also trading in magic he didn’t understand perfectly.
I couldn’t shed the cold; it clung to every bit of me.
Hours took as long as they needed.
She had a pure and fiery hatred for anything that could be classified as small talk.
What does a dream want?” Ronan opened his eyes. “To live without their dreamer.
It was a night for truth, but they both had run out of things they were sure about.
Adam felt a surge of both accomplishment and nerves. He skated an edge here. Making Ronan Lynch smile felt as charged as making a bargain with Cabeswater. These weren’t forces to play with.
Here was a thing she wanted: to taste vanilla without crying. Here was a thing she feared: that the prettiest thing about her was her exterior.
Roll, roll, roll. He nudged it with his foot to keep it straight. It was surprisingly satisfying to see acres and acres of forest and mountains and rivers unrolling across his floorboards. If he were a god, he thought, this would be precisely how he’d create his new world. Unrolling it like carpet.
So much of magic-of power, in general-required belief as a prerequisite.
But on every other level, Gansey was slightly confused. He felt as if he was being told a secret that he’d already been told before. He couldn’t tell if this was because Cabeswater itself had possibly already whispered its truth to them on one of their walks there, or if it was merely that the weight of evidence was already so conclusive that his subconscious had accepted ownership of the secret before the parcel had been officially delivered.
She did not feel like Blue Sargent, superhero, or Blue Sargent, desperado, or Blue Sargent, badass.
He knew it was not the truth. But it was shaped like the truth.
The school day was a pillow over his head. He would suffocate before the final bell. The only oxygen to be found was the pale band of skin on Adam’s wrist where his watch had been and the glimpse of the sky between classes.
Dreamers are to be classified as weapons.
You’re the table everyone wants at Starbucks,” Gansey mused as he began to walk again. Blue blinked. “What?” Over his shoulder, Gansey said, “Next to the wall plug.