“Your hair is like butterflies,” Sebastian said, giggling like a child.“That’s nice,” Firen said impatiently. “Keep moving.”“Fantastic. I always like my days better with a touch of insanity,” Gabriella quipped.”

“I don’t like keeping her in the dark,” Jace said.“We’ll tell her in a week. What difference does a week make?”Jace gave him a look. “Two weeks ago you were dead.”“Well, I wasn’t suggesting two weeks,” said Sebastian. “That would be insane.”

“All right, I said murder and I'll say it again as often as I like, so keep your hair on...”

“When my grandmother touches my hair in my sleep, I feel like a lost child. There is never enough of her to comfort me.”

“You like vodka, and I like carpet cleaner. You should try it. It’ll put hair on your chest—really clean hair. Grandpa said it would make me a better lover, but I made me a better lover—and I made it out of clay.”

“You moved my head so that it was lying in your lap. "Keep your eyes open," you said. "Stay with me."I tried. It felt like I was using every muscle in my face. But I did it. I saw you from upside down, your lips above my eyes and your eyes above my lips. "Talk to me," you said. My throat felt like it was closing up, as if my skin had swollen, making my throat a lump of solid flesh. I gripped your hand. "Keep watching me, then," you said. "Keep listening.”