“When I asked him for some explanation as to why he wanted to kill me, he said it was because he didn't like his jobs. When I asked him since when had he not liked his jobs, he said since always. When I remarked that he had never told me this, and that I had gotten the impression that he had liked them, he said: "How is that possible? You know me. Do I strike you as stupid or boring?""No.""Then how could you think I would enjoy being an etiquette expert, or a Weight Watchers' counselor, or a stripper? How could you think that someone like me, with my mind, my character, would derive any satisfaction from those things?”

“How did I look at you? I asked thickly. Like you had to, like I was a magnet you were pulled to. There was no choice, he said. And when you look at Jack, it's because when he's around, why would you want to look at anything else? You love him the way you could never love me.”

“And she finally told me what makes me so special. That I'm the perfect blend of Trylle and Vittra. I'm the ultimate bloodline.""And you didn't believe me when I said you were special." That was Finn's attempt at a joke, and he smiled ever so slightly."I guess you were right." I pulled down my hair, which had gotten messy from lying on it, and ran my fingers through it."How are you taking that?" Finn asked, coming closer to the foot of my bed. He stopped by the bedpost and absently touched my satin bedding."Being the chosen one for both sides in an epic troll battle?""If anybody can handle it,you can," he reassured me.I looked up at him, and his eyes betrayed some of the warmth he felt for me. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and feel them wrap around me, protecting me like granite. To kiss his temple and cheeks,to feel his stubble rubbing against my skin.Despite how badly I wanted that-I wanted it so much I ached-I knew that I had to become a great Princess, which meant that I had to use some restraint. Even if the restraint killed me.”

“But the Esquire passage I found most poignant and revealing was this one: Mister Rogers' visit to a teenage boy severely afflicted with cerebral palsy and terrible anger. One of the boys' few consolations in life, Junod wrote, was watching Mister Rogers Neighborhood. 'At first, the boy was made very nervous by the thought that Mister Rogers was visiting him. He was so nervous, in fact, that when Mister Rogers did visit, he got mad at himself and began hating himself and hitting himself, and his mother had to take him to another room and talk to him. Mister Rogers didn't leave, though. He wanted something from the boy, and Mister Rogers never leaves when he wants something from somebody. He just waited patiently, and when the boy came back, Mister Rogers talked to him, and then he made his request. He said, 'I would like you to do something for me. Would you do something for me?' On his computer, the boy answered yes, of course, he would do anything for Mister Rogers, so then Mister Rogers said: I would like you to pray for me. Will you pray for me?' And now the boy didn't know how to respond. He was thunderstruck... because nobody had ever asked him for something like that, ever. The boy had always been prayed for. The boy had always been the object of prayer, and now he was being asked to pray for Mister Rogers, and although at first he didn't know how to do it, he said he would, he said he'd try, and ever since then he keeps Mister Rogers in his prayers and doesn't talk about wanting to die anymore, because he figures if Mister Rogers likes him, that must mean that God likes him, too.As for Mister Rogers himself... he doesn't look at the story the same way the boy did or I did. In fact, when Mister Rogers first told me the story, I complimented him on being smart - for knowing that asking the boy for his prayers would make the boy feel better about himself - and Mister Rogers responded by looking at me first with puzzlement and then with surprise. 'Oh heavens no, Tom! I didn't ask him for his prayers for him; I asked for me. I asked him because I think that anyone who has gone through challenges like that must be very close to God. I asked him because I wanted his intercession.”

“You need to be Queen. Everyone who knows anything knows htat, but most people don't know anything, and that is a problem." He scratched at the back of his head and shifted his weight. "I would never take that away from you. No matter what happens, I'd never take the crown from you, and I'd defend you against anybody who tried."I didn't say anything to that. I'd never heard Tove talk so much before, and I didn't know what he was getting at. "I know that you're in love with...well, not me," he said carefully. "And I'm not in love with you either. But I do respect you and I like you.""I respect and like you too," I said, and he gave me a small smile."But it's a number of things, and it's none of them." He let out a deep breath. "That didn't make sense. I mean,it's because you need somebody to help you keep the throne, and somebody on your side, and I can do that. But...it's just because I think...I want to.""What?" I asked, and he actually looked at me, letting his mossy eyes stare into mine."Will you...I mean,do you want to get married?" Tove asked. "To me?""I,um..." I didn't know what to say."If you don't want to,nothing has to change between us," Tove said hurriedly. "I asked because it sounds like a good idea to me.""Yeah," I said,and I didn't know what I would say until it was comign out of my mouth. "I mean,yes,I do.I will. I would...I'll marry you.""Yeah?" Tove smiled."Yes." I swallowed hard and tried to smile back."Good." He exhaled and looked back down the hall. "This is good,right?""Yeah,I think so," I said, and I meant it."Yeah." He nodded. "I sorta feel like throwing up now,though.""I think that's normal.""Good." He nodded again and looked at me. "Well,I'll let you go...do whatever you need to do.And I'll go do what I do.""okay," I nodded."All right." He randomly patted me on the shoulder, then nodded again, and walked away.”

“Ben kissed me like he could kiss me forever, like he had to kiss me forever and he wanted to, he wanted me, and when he felt my surprise at that, I could feel again how beautiful I was to him, how I was beautiful beyond words.”

“Philip. I have never been outside of England. I've never even been to London. Do you know what I would give for your experiences? How could you possibly think you would bore me?" He didn't answer, but there was such a look of delight in his eyes that I had to ask, "Why are you looking at me like that?" "You called me Philip. For the first time.”