Sophie Jordan Quotes

I wont let him have you.

No longer do I fear. No longer do I let others define me. I know what I am. What I'm capable of. That I'm a girl... a woman who will fight to survive.

He may be stronger, but I'm not defenseless. He knows that, of coarse. That's why he's here. He wants me for what I can do after all.

When I shoot, the ball bounces hard against the backboard, and flies wildly through the air, knocking the coach in the head. I slap a hand over my mouth. The coach barely catches herself from falling. Several students laugh. She glares at me and readjusts her cap. With a small wave of apology, I head back to the end of the line. Will's there fighting laughter. "Nice," he says. "Glad I'm downcourt of you." I cross my arms and resist smiling, resist letting myself feel good around him. But he makes it hard. I want to smile. I want to like him, to be around him, to know him. "Happy to amuse you.

Ironic. I'm here because of my inherent dangerousness, but it's my inherent politeness that makes me put up with this. With him.

He stiffens against me, pain written all over the mess of a face. He grabs my face in his hands. Holds me. "It's not over. We're not through, Jacinda." His eyes blister, glitter darkly."I'll find you. I will. We'll be together again.

Don't stay away from me anymore."I stop myself, just barely, from telling him I won't. I can't promise that. Can't

His hand glides down my arm, folds over my hand. His fingers lace with mine, palms kissing. I can feel the fast thud of his heart through this single touch.

So what's the deal with you and my sister?" He laughs shortly and rubs the back of his neck like something is there, tickling, tap

It's unclear who moves first. We're in each other's arms, lips locked, melded, hotly fused. Our hands drag over each other, reacquainting, remembering, almost as if we're both verifying the other one is real flesh and blood.

Pleasure suffused her and she snuggled deeper into his arms, her heart clenching when he tightened his hold on her. After a while his breathing slowed and his hold relaxed. Convinced he slept, she whispered, "You should have been my first." A small ache pinched her heart.His chest vibrated beneath her hand, sending a thrilling shiver up her spine as his deep voice rumbled through the air, "I'll be your last.

Sudden conviction races through me, almost terrifying in its total certainty. I can't give him up. He's the other part of me. He gets what it feels like to be separate from everything and everyone, to reject the path others lay out for you. We're the same. Two sides to the same coin.

Then again, there’s nothing simple about Will. I think back to what he can do—bend earth, resist shading, his immense strength—and it’s glaringly inaccurate to consider him a human. But then I can’t think of him as a draki either. And this strikes me as sad. Will doesn’t belong anywhere. Not among humans. Not among draki.But he belongs with me. The conviction is still there, as senseless and dangerous as always, seeping into my bones, my heart. A fact I wouldn’t change even if I could.

I wish for adventure.I wish to matter.I wish for a home.

Before I sought truth. Now I seek justice.

But you're worried I'll get in trouble?" I try not to show how much this pleases me. I've managed to ignore him for days now and here I sit. Lapping up his attention like a neglected puppy. My voice takes on an edge. "Why do you care? I've ignored you for days."His smile fades. He looks serious, mockingly so. "Yeah. You got to stop that.

He stares at me so darkly, so hungily that I can only nod. Agree. Of course, I feel it. "I do", I admit.

That's what I wanted. Something to enrich me, to make me feel better about the things in my life that I could never change." - Page 56

Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.

I touch his cheek, see my hand shake, and quickly pull itback. He grabs my wrist, places my palm back against hischeek, and closes his eyes like he’s in agony. Or bliss. Ormaybe both. Like he’s never been touched before.

I once saw a show about an amputee who lost his leg and still feels it. He actually wakes up at night to scratch his leg as if it’s still there, attached to him. They call it a phantom limb.I would be like that. A phantom draki, tormented with the memory of what I once was.