“Tucker: "But she gave me the perfect gift."
“So often we only do what we think is expected of us, when we are capable of so much more.”
“Tucker," I say. "I'm so glad you're still here."
I throw myself into his arms. He hugs me tightly.
"I couldn't leave," he says.
"I mean, literally. I don't have a ride.”
“What do you see in a guy like Christian Prescott?" he asked me that night when he dropped me off from prom. And what he was really saying then, what would have come through loud and clear if I hadn't been so blind was, why don't you see me?”
“Are you any good at it?"
"Pulling idiots out of the snow? I'm the best.”
“Insert the biggest, most awkward silence in the history of big awkward silences.”
“I feel like Cinderella sitting in the middle of the road with a pumpkin and a couple of mice, while Prince Charming charges off to rescue some other chick.”
“Hey, you feel like driving today?" he asks. "I don't want to walk to the bus stop. It's too cold."
"You feel like dying today?"
"Sure. I like risking my life. Keeps things in perspective.”
“Tucker: Why would you tell me now if it's against the rules?
Clara: Because I love you.”
“Tucker: "Today we ran into a mama grizzly with two cubs at the ridge off Colter Bay and Clara sang to it to make it go away."
Mrs. Avery: You sang to it?
Tucker: Her singing is that bad.”
“Think about a good memory, she whispers in my mind. Remember a moment when you loved him.
And just like that, I do.
"What did the fish say when it hit a concrete wall?" he asked me. We're sitting on the bank of a stream and he's tying a fly onto my fishing rod, wearing a cowboy hat and red lumberjack-style flannel shirt over a gray tee. So adorable.
"What?" I say, he grins. Unbelievable of how gorgeous he is. And that he's mine. He loves me and I love him.
"Dam!" he says.”
“I'm looking at you. Why are you always trying to hide how pretty you are?”
“Have you ever been to a place you're supposed to love, but all you can think about is home?”
“Sam: "I always thought you were the most beautiful of all the Nephilim."
Meg: "That's ironic because I always thought you were the ugliest of all the angels.”
“Tucker: I'm glad it happened. because then I got to know who you really are.
Clara: Oh yeah? Who am I?
Tucker: A really, really spiritual, spoiled California chick.
Avery: Shut up.
Tucker: It's cool though. My girlfriend is an angel.”
“Silver Avalanche coming up the driveway," calls Jeffrey from upstairs.
"What are you, security?" I call back.”
“Clara: My heart doesn't belong to me anymore. It belongs to Tucker.”
“I think he seriously believes that deflowering an angel could mean an eternity in fiery hell.”
“I won’t be that girl who lets the guy treat her like crap and still fawns all over him.”
“Have a care, Sir Tucker, lest you find yourself in the stockades."
He scoffs and looks at Mr. Erikson. "She can't do that, can she? She's not the ruler of this class. Brady is."
"You could strip him of his title," suggests Brady, apparently not minding at all that I have usurped his throne. "Make him a serf."
"Yeah," says Christian. "Make him a serf. Being a serf blows."
As a serf, poor Christian has already been killed several times in our class. Aside from dying of the Black Plague on the first day, he's starved to death, had his hands cut off for stealing a loaf of bread, and been run down by his master's horse just for kicks. He's like Christian the fifth now.”
“Tucker: Is it okay to kiss you?
Tucker: I won't get struck by lightning?
Clara: (laughs) No lightning.”
“What did you think I was?"
"A rude Hick."
"Geez, blunt much?”
“In fact, I've essentially given up on the idea of flight altogether and accepted that I'm going to be an angel-blood who stays earthbound, a flightless bird, like an ostrich. Maybe, or in this weather, a penguin.”
“I'm in love with Tucker Avery.”
“And then I can feel what he feels. He’s waited such a long time for this moment. He loves how I feel in his arms. He loves the smell of my hair. He loves the way I looked at him just now, flushed and wanting more from him. He loves the color of my lips and now the taste of my mouth is making his knees feel weak and he doesn’t want to seem weak in front of me.”
“Fine.” He smirks at me. “Nice to meet you, Carrots,” he says, looking directly at my hair. “Oh, I mean Clara.”
My face flames.
“Same to you, Rusty,” I shoot back, but he’s already striding away.”
“Dude. Hot Bozo. Best nickname ever.”
“Because if it's not her fault, it's God's, and I'm not ready to be pissed at the Almighty.”
“Oh, come on. You eye-hump him all through British History.”
“But why always think the worst of people? What would she be doing to herself if she adopted that attitude to life? It was better to think the best and be wrong than to think the worst and be wrong.”
“When she's next to him, when she rests her hand on his, his whole body aches with something like knowledge for all he has lost, the chances he will never have, to return such a touch, to fall of a horse or eat chinese food or shoot a crossbow (which has always been one of his most dear wishes), to receive a letter in the mail, to be kissed with longing or punched in the jaw.”
“We know we have to face hard truths and take strong steps, but we have not done so; instead, we have drifted. And that drifting has eroded our resources, fractured our economy, and shaken our confidence.”
“That was the only decision there was once upon a time: what to do with the night.”
“But it is not at all necessary for us to go into the pros and cons of this line of reasoning. If all that can be adduced in favor of the maintenance of European rule in the colonies is the supposed interest of the natives, then one must say that it would be better if this rule were brought to an end completely. No one has a right to thrust himself into the affairs of others in order to further their interest, and no one ought, when he has his own interests in view, to pretend that he is acting selflessly only in the interest of others.”
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