Reality was a bridge breaking beneath Adam.
He was too busy being ghostly to attend to her, however.
It was easier for Gansey to wrap his head around a Ronan who made dreams real than a Ronan who wanted to die.
The truth is, I feel myself being fascinated and repelled by her: She’s both a mirror of myself and a door to part of this island that I’m not.
How ungrateful they’d become, how greedy for better wonders.
Eleven minutes. That was how long the entire homicidal portrait lasted: one boy’s life destroyed in less time than it took to cook a hamburger.
YOU TWO,” roared Calla. Both Adam and Ronan winced. “Go to the store and get some supplies for her.” Adam and Ronan exchanged a wide-eyed look. Adam’s look said, What does that mean? and Ronan’s said, I don’t care; let’s get out of here before she changes her mind. Gansey frowned after them as they scrambled to the front door.
They didn’t even had the authority to choose an alcoholic beverage. They couldn’t be deciding who deserved to live or die.
No one but Ronan knew the terrors that lived in his mind. Plagues and devils, conquerors and beasts.
They shot him. A few times. Mistakes were expensive and bullets were cheap.
He’d learned that lies were only dangerous if you sometimes told the truth.
I was surfing the Internet for a different sort of education. I surfed for photos of circus freaks and synonyms for the word intercourse and for answers to why staring at the stars in the evening tore my heart with longing.
It all had a classy, run-down look, like a place to be aesthetically killed by a really famous poltergeist.
He’d never escape, not really. Too much monster blood in him. He’d left the den, but his breeding betrayed him. And he knew why he was pitiful. It wasn’t because he had to pay for his school or because he had to work for a living. It was because he was trying to be something he could never be. The sham was pitiful. He didn’t need to graduate. He needed Glendower.
Adam mused, “Incorruptus. I never thought anyone would use that word to describe Lynch.” Ronan looked as pleased as a pit viper ever could.
He fell quietly from her arms. He was a king.
What a strange world this was, that I could come here to lose everything about myself, and instead lose everything but me. It was possible that I’d thrown one too many Molotov cocktails over God’s fence. It would be, after all, a divinely ironic punishment to watch me learn to care and then destroy the things I cared about.
The king sleeps still, under a mountain, and around him is assembled his warriors and his herds and his riches. By his right hand is his cup, filled with possibility. On his breast nestles his sword, waiting, too, to wake. Fortunate is the soul who finds the king and is brave enough to call him to wakefulness, for the king will grant him a favor, as wondrous as can be imagined.
Her love him so hard that she felt sad because one day he would get old and die because that was what things with animalness did.
Haven’t you learned yet? A king acts so that others will act. Nothing comes from nothing comes from nothing. But something makes something.” She.