Shannon Messenger · 496 pages
Rating: (11.8K votes)
“Fitz pulled her forward, and the warm tingling in her hand shot through her body--like a million feathers swelling underneath her skin, tickling her from the inside out.”
“That’s impossible [...] You need infinite energy for light travel. Haven’t you heard of the theory of relativity?”
She thought she had him stumped with that one, but he just laughed again. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Across the river, a row of crystal castles glittered in the sunlight in a way that would make Walt Disney want to throw rocks at his “Magic Kingdom.”
“This is…magic?”
Fitz laughed – a full body laugh, like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard [...] “No,” he said when he’d regained control. “Magic is a stupid idea humans came up with to try to explain things they couldn’t understand.”
“I would rather be punished for making the right decision than live with the guilt of making the wrong one for the rest of my life.”
“He grabbed her arms to steady her. "It's ok, Sophie. I'm here to help you. We've been looking for you for twelve years.”
“The drug lulled her toward a dreamless oblivion, but she fought back—clinging to the one memory that could shine a tiny spot of light in the thick, inky haze. A pair of beautiful aquamarine eyes.
Fitz’s eyes. Her first friend in her new life. Her first friend ever.”
“Fitz? What kind of name was Fitz?”
“She’d spent forever trying to find him something personal, settling on a miniature Albertosaurus covered in deep violet feathers. She knew it was silly, but it reminded her of the day they met, and in the card she thanked him for showing her what dinosaurs really looked like.”
“He turned away and his hands grabbed something. A tiny purple Albertosaurus, and the note she’d given him with it. If she could’ve felt her chest, her heart would’ve skipped a beat.”
“She stood at the edge of a glassy river lined with impossibly tall trees, fanning out their wide emerald leaves among the puffy white clouds. Across the river, a row of crystal castles glittered in the sunlight in a way that would make Walt Disney want to throw rocks at his “Magic Kingdom.” To her right, a golden path led into a sprawling city, where the elaborate domed buildings seemed to be built from brick-size jewels—each structure a different color. Snowcapped mountains surrounded the lush valley, and the crisp, cool air smelled like cinnamon and chocolate and sunshine.”
“My mother always said that love is an entanglement. If you get too tangled, you lose yourself. It’s just a distraction. A way of escaping into someone else because you think that’ll be what finally makes you happy. Like a drug.”
“Don’t let your heart get in the way of your head.”
“– and pompous fools drive me up the wall. Ordinary fools are alright; you can talk to them and try to help them out. But pompous fools – guys who are fools and covering it all over and impressing people as to how wonderful they are with all this hocus pocus – THAT, I CANNOT STAND! An ordinary fool isn’t a faker; an honest fool is all right. But a dishonest fool is terrible!”
“But what about being unfortunate? That’s like a curse.” “Wisdom is a curse, Trystin, and it’s usually bought with pain and suffering. Your alien seems rather perceptive.”
“When you read the account of a murder - or, say, a fiction story based on murder - you usually begin with the murder itself. That's all wrong. The murder begins a long time beforehand. A murder is the culmination of a lot of different circumstances, all converging at a given moment at a given point. People are brought into it from different parts of the globe and for unforeseen reasons. [...] The murder itself is the end of the story. It's Zero Hour.”
He paused.
“It's Zero Hour now.”
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