They all glanced at the trees that surrounded them; they were fenced by one thousand different shades of green fastened to a million wind-blown claws. “And the last line?” Gansey asked. “That last word doesn’t look like Latin.”“Nomine appellant,” Ronan read. “Call it by name.” He paused. “Cabeswater.”
Everything Ronan had ever said about Adam restructured itself in Gansey’s mind. What a strange constellation they all were.
She was decidedly uncomfortable with the switchblade. Although she very much liked the idea of it she suspected that the only thing she would cut the first time she opened it was herself.
Blue didn’t care that he — it — Noah — was strange and decaying and frightening. She knew that he — it — Noah — was strange and decayed and frightened, and she knew that she loved him anyway. She hugged it. Him. Noah. She didn’t care if he wasn’t quite human anymore. She would keep calling whatever this was Noah for as long as it wanted to be called Noah. And she was glad that he could read her thoughts in that moment, because she wanted him to know how thoroughly she believed that.
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.
He was a king. The world was his to bend. His to burn.
Happy Birthday Dom !! !!! !
“adam parrish was lonesome.
lonesome means a state of being apart. of being other. alone-some.
adam was not always alone, but he was always lonesome. even in a group, he was slowly perfecting the skill of holding himself separate. it was easier than one might expect; the others allowed him to do it. he knew he was different since aligning himself more tightly with the ley line this summer.
he was himself, but more powerful.
himself, but less human.”