Cynthia Hand

“But now...it's like when part of you stops hurting and suddenly you're yourself again, healthy and whole, and only then do you understand that you've been in pain for a while.”

“I wanted to tell you that wherever I am, whatever happens, I’ll always think of you, and the time we spent together, as my happiest time. I’d do it all over again, if I had the choice. No regrets.”

“Where's your dad?""Gone. Where does he go, anyway?""He probably has work to do.""Yeah, gotta go burn a bush for Moses.”

“How did you do that?” I shrug. “I click my heels three times and say, ‘There’s no place like home.’” “Uh-huh. So … you think this is your home? My barn? His tone is playful, but the look he’s giving me is dead serious. A question. “Haven’t you guessed by now?” I say, my heart hammering. “My home is you.”

“She shrugs."Men""Men.""If we can send one man to the moon, why can't we send them all there?”

“I love you," he murmurs. "Can you feel that? You. Not some destiny I think I'm called to. You. I'm with you. My strength. My soul. My heart. Feel it.”

“I should have fought for you, Clara, even if I would have had to fight you to fight for you. I should have never let you go.”

“I love that he says heck. I've totally had enough of hell.”

“Go with polar bears, I say to myself. Polar bears at the North Pole. Baby polar bears scooting along after their mothers in the snow. Polar bears drinking Coca-Cola.”

“I’m not an angel. I don’t live in heaven or play a golden harp or have heart-to-heart conversations with the Almighty.”

“Yes. But mostly I’m a normal girl.” I know he won’t believe that. I wonder if he’ll ever treat me like a normal girl again. That’s part of what I love about being with Tucker.He makes me feel normal, not in a plain Jane, nondescript way, but like I’m enough, just being me, without all the angel stuff. I almost start to cry thinking I’m going to lose that.”

“I see something like fear on his face. What if I’m an alien invader trying to lure him to a secluded place so I can suck his brains out? Or a vampire, ravenous for his blood?”

“…sitting on the sidewalk outside of his workplace like some creepy stalker ex-girlfriend, waiting for him to come out so I can ambush him with love.”

“We could go back to the way things were before, him accusing me of stuff and me pretending like I don’t have a clue what he’s talking about.Right.I’m not that good a liar, even when I’m lying to myself.”

“I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, which keeps the business part of my brain temporarily disabled.”

“That wasn’t Christian,” she says.“Brilliant observation, Mother.”“What happened?”“He’s in love with another girl,” I say, and pull the silver laurel out of my hair.”

“A string of very un-angelic curse words come to mind.”

“Okay,” I say again. It seems that I’ve been reduced to single syllables by a single touch. Maybe Angela’s right. Maybe the swoony hand-holding in my vision means that part of my purpose means getting this really hot guy as my boyfriend. That wouldn’t suck.”

“A light comes on in his eyes. “Sure, why not? A date with Queen Elizabeth.” He smiles.”

“As a serf, poor Christian has already been killed several times in our class. Aside from dying of the Black Plague on the first day, he’s starved to death, had his hands cut off for stealing a loaf of bread, and been run down by his master’s horse just for kicks. He’s like Christian the fifth now.”

“I don’t particularly want Kay to be a good person. I’m perfectly comfortable thinking about her as the wicked witch”

“Once again, my hero. And here I’m supposed to be the one saving him.”

“His name is Christian,” he calls back. “Can you believe that? We came all this wayso Clara could save a guy named Christian.”“I’m aware of the irony.”

“The odds of surviving are not good for serfs, or clerics, since they tended the sick, but miraculously I survive. Mr. Erikson rewards me with a laminated badge that reads, I SURVIVED THE BLACK PLAGUE. Mom will be so proud.”

“Hot is really not an adequate enough word for this guy. He is crazy beautiful. And it’s more than his looks—the intentionally messy waves of his dark hair; the strong eyebrows that make his expression a bit serious, even when he smiles; his eyes, which I notice can look emerald in one light and hazel in another; the sweetly sculpted angles of his face; the curve of his full lips.”

“And,” Kay adds as her final touch, “Christian Prescott is my boyfriend.”I dislike her already.”

“One minute you’re a happy fourteen-yearold—good at everything you try, popular, fun—the next you’re a freak with wings”

“I can’t believe you’re old enough to have your purpose,” Mom says with a sigh. “Makes me feel old.”“You are old.”

“Everything was falling into place. And out of place, at the same time.”

“But he’s like a god. You worship the gods but you don’t go out with them. You only like guys like that from a distance.”

“I’ve learned that sometimes, when you’re afraid but you keep on moving forward, that’s the biggest kind of courage there is.”

“...he's like our own personal Gandalf or Dumbledore or somebody cool like that...”

“It's like watching a train wreck, this conversation.”

“There it is," says Christian, looking at me with something like admiration."There what is?""The smile. You always smile when you ski”

“Let go of everything else, he urges in my mind. Just be here. With me.”

“Angela says that angel-bloods are supposed to be immune to cold. It helps with the flying at high altitudes, I guess." I shiver again. "I must not have gotten the memo." He smiles. "Maybe that power only applies to mature angel-bloods." "Hey, are you calling me immature?" "Oh no," he says, his smile blossoming into a full-blown grin. "I wouldn't dare." "Good. Because I'm not the one peeping into someone else's window.”

“My mind wanders back to the dream, to Christian, the way he's always looking out for me, catching me, keeping me on my feet. He's becoming my guardian, maybe. Someone who is there to keep me on my path.”

“You don’t know what you can do. You won’t know until you try.”

“But then I think about what I’ve learned here in the last year, and I don’t mean in my classes, but what I’ve learned from watching my friends face their futures and search for their purposes. I’ve learned that a storm isn’t always just bad weather, and a fire can be the start of something new. I’ve found out that there are a lot more shades of gray in this world than I ever knew about. I’ve learned that sometimes, when you’re afraid but you keep on moving forward, that’s the biggest kind of courage there is. And finally, I’ve learned that life isn’t really about failure and success. It’s about being present, in the moment when big things happen, when everything changes, including yourself. So I would tell us, no matter how bright we think our futures are, it doesn’t matter. Whether we go off to some fancy university or stay home and work. That doesn’t define us. Our purpose on this earth is not a single event, an accomplishment we can check off a list. There is no test. No passing or failing. There’s only us, each moment shaping who we are, into what we will become. So I say forget about the future. Pay attention to now. This moment right now. Let go of expectations. Just be. Then you are free to become something great.”

“The man is definitely Tucker, I'd recognise that butt anywhere.”

“That's the hardest part," he says. "The absence of certainty.”

“I did get so wigged out that I sneaked out to his house a couple times in the middle of the night to watch over him while he slept, just in case, I don't know, his comic book collection decided to spontaneously combust. This was dumb and admittedly creepy in an Edward Cullen kind of way, but it was the only thing I could think to do.”

“Because I love you.' There. I said it. I can't believe I actually said it. People cast around those words so carelessly. I always cringe whenever I hear kids say it while making out in the hall at school. I love you, babe. I love you, too. Here they're all of sixteen years old and convinced that they've found true love. I always thought I'd have more sense than that, a little more perspective. But here I am, saying it and meaning it.”

“He's like a God. You worship the gods, but you don't go out with them. You only like guys like that from a distance.”

“So spring break consisted of seven fun-filled days cooped up in thehouse with Jeffrey, who was grounded because he’d won the Regional WrestlingChampionships”

“Well he should get over himself. He tried to get me burned at the stake in Brit History yesterday. Here I am minding my own business like a good little girl, and out of the blue Tucker raises his hand and accuses me of being a witch" "sounds like something Tucker would do" admits wendy."Everybody had to vote on it. I barely escaped with my nuns life. Obviously I'll have to return the favour.”

“Sir Tucker,” I say suddenly, interrupting Angela.“Yeah?”“I believe the correct response is, ‘yes, Your Majesty,”

“You’re not . . . normal, Clara. You try to pretend you are. But you’re not. You talked to a grizzly bear, and it obeyed you. Birds follow you like a Disney cartoon, or haven’t you noticed? And for a while after you came back from Idaho Falls, Wendy thought you were on the run from someone or something. You’re good at everything you try. You ride a horse like you were born in the saddle, you ski perfect parallel turns your first time on the hill, you apparently speak fluent French and Korean and who knows what else. Yesterday I noticed that your eyebrows kind of glitter in the sun. And there’s something about the way you move, something that’s beyond graceful, something that’s beyond human, even. It’s like you’re . . . something else.”

“Is it okay to kiss you?” he asks.“What?”“I won’t get struck by lightning?”

“This isn't going to become one of those creepy situations where you show up at all hours of the night to watch me sleep, is it?" [Tucker] asks playfully."Every moment I'm away from you, I die a little," I say in return.”