The Summer King

When you come to the edge of all that you know, you must believe one of two things: either there will be ground to stand on, or you will be given wings to fly.

Life isn't as magical here, and you're not the only one who feels like you don't belong, or that it's better somewhere else. But there ARE things worth living for. And the best part is you never know what's going to happen next.

Tread softly for you tread on my dreams. -Honor,from the Summer King.

By that which you kill are you bound.

It's a booley village," Ian told her. "The islanders used to take their animals into the hills for the summ. They'd camp out in these stone huts: men, women, and children. Everyone stayed up all night, sang, told stories, watched the stars. It must have been great craic." "How do you know this stuff?" she asked, admiringly. "I' a bloody genius." When she threw him a look, he grinned. " I also read it in the guidebook.

If I have not love, I am Nothing.

Love is patient. Love is kind. It bears all things. Love never fails. Love is as strong as death.

Little lost girl." He hoisted himself onto a low wall and lit a cigarette. Laurel hesitated before leaving. A spark of her old self flared up. "Do you enjoy being a creep?" He returned her gaze without flickering. "If I wasn't bad, how else would the rest of you know you were good?" He blew smoke in her face.