“I can't help but see myself in them. The Seelie are who I was before my sister died. Pink, pretty, frivolous Mac. The Unseelie are who I've become, carved by loss and despair. Black, grungy, driven Mac.”

“Barrons knows virtually everything about me. I wouldn’t be surprised if somewhere he has a little file that encompasses my entire life to date, with neatly mounted, acerbically captioned photos—see Mac sunbathe, see Mac paint her nails, see Mac almost die.”

“Mac reflected on the Unseelie King and his concubine:He’d loved her for all timeAfter he’d believed she was goneSunshine to his ice.Frost to her fever. I wished them forever.You, too, beautiful girl. The Unseelie King was gone.”

“Mac." He said my name and laughed. "What a name for something like you. Mac.”

“He lives. I breathe. I want. Him. Always. Fire to my ice. Ice to my fever. -Mac”

“What are you" -Mac "I don't follow" -Jericho "You dropped 30 feet in that warehouse. You should have broken something. What are you?" -Mac "A man with a rope." -Jericho”

“Jericho.""Mac.""Thank you for saving my life. Again.”