“There is an old and very wise Native American saying: Every time you point a finger in scorn—there are three remaining fingers pointing right back at you.”

“That was one time,and it was only for three days,as you well know-"But I barely get to finish before she's shaking her head, practically shouting, "It was four days,Daire. Four.""That's only because of the time difference and you know it," I mumble, thinking how sad it is that after weeks of not seeing each other,this is the way she chooses to greet me.But now that she's started,I'm not in much of a hugging mood either. "The point is,it was just once,and there were special circumstances involved sine I was"-enduring a vision quest/full-body dismemberment in a remote cave-"not feeling well...due to my injuries from the accident and all.”

“Despite the fact that he no longer dressed like the big dork he did then, despite the fact that he’d swapped the nerd wear for somemuch cooler clothes, despite the fact that he’d let his hair go all shaggy and loose to the point where it curved down into his face in thatcool guy, slightly windswept, effortless way, despite the fact that every time I looked into his brilliant blue eyes I was totally reminded ofthe Zac Efron poster that used to hang on my old bedroom wall, it still didn’t make it okay for him to laugh at me the way he did.”

“I guess I just don't get the point. It's like, why should you bother getting attached to anything if,A: It's never gonna last, andB: It hurts like hell when it's over?”

“Six hundred years is an awfully long time, Ever. So long it's impossible for either of us to imagine. Though it is more than enough time to rack up a few dirty skeletons for the old metaphorical closet, right?”

“Another one from the immortals and again i cant remember what book.Haven to Ever In every relationship there is always someone who loves more, my point is no matter how it looks from the outside the truth is, its never really equal, that's just not the way it works,there is always the pursued and the pursuer, the cat and the mouse.”

“Close your eyes and picture it. Can you see it?"I nod, eyes closed."Imagine it right there before you. See its texture, shape, and color—got it?"I smile, holding the image in my head."Good. Now reach out and touch it. Feel its contours with the tips of your fingers, cradle its weight in the palms of your hands, then combine all of your senses—sight, touch, smell, taste—can you taste it?"I bite my lip and suppress a giggle."Perfect. Now combine that with feeling. Believe it exists right before you. Feel it, see it, touch it, taste it, accept it, manifest it!" he says.So I do. I do all of those things. And when he groans, I open my eyes to see for myself."Ever." He shakes his head. "You were supposed to think of an orange. This isn't even close.""Nope, nothing fruity about him." I laugh, smiling ateach of my Damens—the replica I manifested before me, and the flesh and blood version beside me. Both of them equally tall, dark, and so devastatingly handsome they hardly seem real.”