The Raven King

His feelings for Adam were an oil spill; he'd let them overflow and now there wasn't a damn place in the ocean that wouldn't catch fire if he dropped a match.

He was a book, and he was holding his final pages, and he wanted to get to the end to find out how it went, and he didn't want it to be over.

Adam smiled cheerily. Ronan would start wars and burn cities for that true smile, elastic and amiable.

The head is too wise. The heart is all fire.

What a strange constellation they all were.

No homework. I got suspended,” Blue replied. “Get the fuck out,” Ronan said, but with admiration. “Sargent, you asshole.

When Adam kissed him, it was every mile per hour Ronan had ever gone over the speed limit. It was every window-down, goose-bumps-on-skin, teeth-chattering-cold night drive. It was Adam’s ribs under Ronan’s hands and Adam’s mouth on his mouth, again and again and again. It was stubble on his lips and Ronan having to stop, to get his breath, to restart his heart. They were both hungry animals, but Adam had been starving for far longer.

You're asking me to define an abstract concept that no one has managed to explain since time began. You sort of sprang it on me," Gansey said. "Why do we breathe air? Because we love air? Because we don't want to suffocate. Why do we eat? Because we don't want to starve. How do I know I love her? Because I can sleep after I talk to her. Why?

It wasn't that Henry was less of himself in English. He was less of himself out loud. His native language was thought.

To think you could have been dreaming the cure for cancer," Blue said. "Look, Sargent," Ronan retorted, "I was gonna dream you some eye cream last night since clearly modern medicine's doing jack shit for you, but I nearly had my ass handed to me by a death snake from the fourth circle of dream hell, so you're welcome." Blue was appropriately touched. "Ah, thanks, man." "No problem, bro.

I don't care to be pretty," Blue shot back hotly, "I care to look on the outside like I look on the inside.

Making Ronan Lynch smile felt as charged as making a bargain with Cabeswater. These were not forces to play with.

No homework. I got suspended,” Blue replied. “Get the fuck out,” Ronan said, but with admiration. “Sargent, you asshole.” Blue reluctantly allowed him to bump fists with her as Gansey eyed her meaningfully in the rearview mirror. Adam swivelled the other way in his seat – to the right, instead of to the left, so that he was peering around the far side of the headrest. It made him look as if he were hiding, but Blue knew it was just because it turned his hearing ear instead of his deaf ear towards them. “For what?” “Emptying another student’s backpack over his car. I don’t really want to talk about it.” “I do,” Ronan said. “Well, I don’t. I’m not proud of it.” Ronan patted her leg. “I’ll be proud for you.

Inside, they pretended they would dream, but they did not. They sprawled on the living room sofa and Adam studied the tattoo that covered Ronan's back: all the sharp edges that hooked wondrously and fearfully into each other. 'Unguibus et rostro,' Adam said. Ronan put Adam's fingers to his mouth. He was never sleeping again.

Where the hell is Ronan?" Gansey asked, echoing the words that thousands of humans had uttered since mankind developed speech.

I'm not asking him to stay, Ronan thought. Only to come back.

Noah crouched over Gansey's body. He said, for the last time, 'You will live because of Glendower. Someone else on the ley line is dying when they should not, and so you will live when you should not.' Gansey died. 'Goodbye,' Noah said. 'Don't throw it away.' He quietly slid from time.

If you can’t be unafraid, Henry said, be afraid and happy.

And here was Ronan, like a heart attack that never stopped.

Trees in your eyes ... Stars in your heart.

The kitchen window groaned open, and Jimi shouted out, “Blue! Your boys are out front, looking like they’re fixing to bury a body.” Again? Blue thought.

Richard Gansey III had forgotten how many times he had been told he was destined for greatness.

Adam lived in an apartment located above the office of St. Agnes Catholic Church, a fortuitous combination that focused most of the objects of Ronan's worship into one downtown block.

Are you going to lock your shitbox?" Adam said, "No point. Hooligans got in anyway." The hooligan in question smiled thinly.

Ronan Lynch — dreamer of dreams, fighter of men, skipper of classes — might

He was a king. This was the year he was going to die.

It was just that there was something newly powerful about this assembled family in the car. They were all growing up and into each other like trees striving together for the sun.

Was Ronan even human? Half a dreamer, half a dream, maker of ravens and hoofed girls and entire lands.