It’s just that Hazel is so—people like Hazel. Boys like Hazel. She goes through this world as if nothing touches her, as if no one can reach her, as though she’s focused on something bigger and better...
In general, her family wasn't very good at talking about important stuff. And of all of them, she was the least good at it. When she tried, it felt like all the chains on all her imagined safes and tr...
If life were like a video game, she would have used her power move to whip Jen in the air and knock her against the wall with two strikes of a lacrosse stick. Of course, if life really were like a vid...
I need to talk to you. I had a weird dream. Let me guess. You got tied up by lady ninjas. With big hooters. Uh, no. I take a sip of coffee and wince. It was ridiculously strong. My grandfather shoves...
I love you, Severin said, looking up, looking at nothing at all. I love you like in the storybooks. I love you like in the ballads. I love you like a lightning bolt. I’ve loved you since the third mon...
I hope it unnerves them to know that I am lying.After all, if the insult to me is pointing out that I am mortal, then this is my riposte: I live here, too, and I know the rules. Perhaps I even know th...
I have no memory of climbing the stairs up to the roof. I don't even know how to get where I am, which is a problem since I'm going to have to get down, ideally in a way that doesn't involve dying.
I hate you, I breathed into his mouth. I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.
I did it to get what I want. Maybe I should regret that, but I can’t. Sometimes you do the bad thing and hope for the good result.
I can't trust the people I care about not to hurt me. And I'm not sure I can trust myself not to hurt them, either.
I am no murderer, says Cardan, surprising me. I would not have thought that was something to be proud of.
His song began to change. It grew softer, sweeter, like the morning after a long cry, when your head still hurt but your heart was no longer broken.
He would make out with girls in front of her. He would make out with boys in front of her. He would wink at her from across rooms, daring her to criticize him.
He wondered whether growing up was learning that most stories turned out to be lies.
He looks like a faerie lover stepped out of a ballad, the kind where no good comes to the girl who runs away with him.
Go ahead. Insult me.His eyebrows go up. I don’t take commands from mortals, he says with his customary cruel smile.So you’re going to say something nice? I don’t think so. Faeries can’t lie.
Farewell, Father, she said. He fell back upon his chair, choking. She laughed, not with mirth or even mockery, but something that was closer to a sob. You crafted me so sharp, I cut even myself.
Fairy tales are full of girls who wait, who endure, who suffer. Good girls. Obedient girls. Girls who crush nettles until their hands bleed. Girls who haul water for witches. Girls who wander through...
Faeries make up for their inability to lie with a panoply of deceptions and cruelties. Twisted words, pranks, omissions, riddles, scandals, not to mention their revenges upon one another for ancient,...
Faerie might be beautiful, but its beauty is like a golden stag’s carcass, crawling with maggots beneath his hide, ready to burst.