Goon > Goon's Quotes

“Mom! Mom. You have to smell him! It’s like… like… I don’t even know what it’s like! I was walking in the woods to scope out our territory so I could be like Dad and then it was like… whoa. And then he was all standing there and he didn’t see me at first because I’m getting so good at hunting. I was all like rawr and grr but then I smelled it again and it was him and it was all kaboom! I don’t even know! I don’t even know! You gotta smell him and then tell me why it’s all candy canes and pinecones and epic and awesome.”
― T.J. Klune, Wolfsong

“Oh my god, Ox, your life is like those shitty sparkly vampire movies. That I’ve never seen and don’t like at all, shut up.” “Oh”
― T.J. Klune, Wolfsong

“Our eyes met like a car crash, colliding and breaking away.”
― T.J. Klune, Wolfsong

“My future,” Joe said, “is Ox.” Ah god, that made me ache. “Is that so?” Mom asked. “How do you figure?” “He’s really nice,” Joe said seriously. “And smells good. And he makes me happy. And I want to do nothing more than put my mouth on him.” “Ah”
― T.J. Klune, Wolfsong

“I want to court your son.” “What does that mean?” she asked. “It means I want to provide for him to prove my worth,” Joe said. “And then, once he agrees to be mine, I’ll mount him and then bite him and everyone will see that we belong to each other.” I”
― T.J. Klune, Wolfsong

“I googled “what to do when your future werewolf mate / boyfriend /best friend courts you and brings you a dead rabbit.”

First, there was a lot of porn. Then I found a recipe for Maltese rabbit stew. It was delicious. The stew, not the porn. The porn was weird.    ”
― T.J. Klune, Wolfsong

“MARK SAID, “I knew. From the very first day, I knew that you were made for something great. I am proud to call you my friend and pack.”     CARTER SAID, “I hope you’re ready for werewolf stamina. Like, for real. You’re going to be sore. For days.”     KELLY SAID, “I really wish I hadn’t heard Carter say that. I need to pour bleach on my brain. For days.”  ”
― T.J. Klune, Wolfsong

“low-slung shorts/you and joe     IT WAS not a gradual thing. Wait. That was a lie. I didn’t know it was a gradual thing. But it must have been. It had to have been. Because it’s the only thing that explained the cosmic explosion that was the feeling of want and need and mine mine mine. The force of it was ridiculous. It had to have been there. For a long time.     JOE”
― T.J. Klune, Wolfsong

“You should put your shirt back on,” I said. He squinted at me. “Why?” “Because of… you know. All of that.” I waved my hand at his entire being. Then he grinned. And it was evil. “All of this?” He flexed his chest. Unfairly. I managed to say, “Yes. To all of that.” He took a step toward me. “We could… ah. You know.” He waggled his eyebrows at me and I thought, fuck. I took a step back. “Or we could wait until you’re eighteen.” Now he glared. There was a bit of wolf in it. “That’s not how this works.” “Yeah, because you know how this works. With all the courting you’ve done.” “I can’t wait until I’m Alpha so I can tell you what to do all the time.” “I’m going to tell your dad you only want to be Alpha so you can get in my pants.” He”
― T.J. Klune, Wolfsong

“Somewhere, a bird sang a song that ached.”
― T.J. Klune, Wolfsong

“I wasn’t posing,” Joe said. “Totally posing,” Elizabeth said. “Ox—” “Totally posing,” I managed to say. “Fine,” he said. “I can tell when I’m not wanted.” No, I almost said. You’re always wanted. I always want you. I never want to leave you. I never want to say good-bye. I’m sorry, Joe. I’m so sorry. I said, “For just a little while.” “Yeah?” Joe said. “And then you’ll want me? I feel so used.” I nodded. “Hey,” he said, and he was right by my side, pressed up against me, nose pressed against my neck. “I was just joking. You know I don’t mean it like that.” “Yeah,” I said. He kissed my jaw. “I’ll leave you to it, then. And later, I’ll let you show me how much you want me.” He smacked my ass and cackled as he left the room.     WE”
― T.J. Klune, Wolfsong

“Kelly said, "I don't understand. Why does he keep making those faces at me? Why does he stutter every time I try talking to him? I didn't do anything to Robbie. I don't get why he's acting weird."

Robbie said, "I don't even know what to say to him! I don't even know him. Anytime I try and talk to him, I forget how to talk and—oh my god, are you laughing at me? You're a fucking bastard, Ox, I swear to god.”
― T.J. Klune, Wolfsong

“But you are my brother. You are Kelly’s brother. We would do anything for you.” “You can’t leave again,” I said, voice rough. “Not again. You can’t. You would do anything for me? Good. Fine. Don’t leave.” Carter and Kelly exchanged a look before shrugging almost in unison. “Sure,” Carter said. “Fine,” Kelly said. I stared at them. “That’s it?” They tackled me even before I knew what was happening.     WE”
― T.J. Klune, Wolfsong

“Some thought magic came from the mind, others the soul, or the heart, or the will. But Kell knew it came from the blood.

Blood was magic made manifest. There it thrived. And there it poisoned. Kell had seen what happened when power warred with the body, watched it darken in the veins of corrupted men, turning their blood from crimson to black. If red was the color of magic in balance—of harmony between power and humanity—then black was the color of magic without balance, without order, without restraint.

As an Antari, Kell was made of both, balance and chaos; the blood in his veins, like the Isle of Red London, ran a shimmering, healthy crimson, while his right eye was the color of spilled ink, a glistening black.”
― V.E. Schwab, A Darker Shade of Magic

“Such is the quandary when it comes to magic, that it is not an issue of strength but of balance. For too little power, and we become weak. Too much, and we become something else entirely.”
― V.E. Schwab, A Darker Shade of Magic

“Whatever I am, let it be enough”
― V.E. Schwab, A Gathering of Shadows

“Let them think what they want was a thought that visited him with far less frequency and force than They see you as a monster.”
― V.E. Schwab, A Gathering of Shadows

“Ten million light-years from now
bathed in the radiation of a time without time
are the bones of a girl who loved Ryann Bird.

In the dust left over from our supernova
atoms spread farther and wider than hope
are the pieces of the heart of the girl who
loved Alexandria the Great.”
― K. Ancrum, The Weight of the Stars

“Love is not about holding people where you want them. It is about doing what's best for them because you need them to be okay.”
― K. Ancrum, The Weight of the Stars

“All that I am is a terribly brave small thing, with a terribly brave small life, and a terribly brave love that spans eons.”
― K. Ancrum, The Weight of the Stars

“Four light-years from the second largest pulsar, past the black dust and the white. In a small circle of golden light, made by a careful teenage star, I found you," Aexandria said seriously. "No matter what I did or said, there you stood. Like a fixed point, and the Earth moved around you.”
― K. Ancrum, The Weight of the Stars

“Every story has many sides, depending on where you're standing when it happens.”
― K. Ancrum, The Weight of the Stars

“This book is for all of us who looked up at the sky in wonder, and then cried when we learned how much calculus separated us from the stars”
― K. Ancrum, The Weight of the Stars

“Why are you rebuilding the tragedy that built me?”
― K. Ancrum, The Weight of the Stars

“I am reminded that I no longer have to wonder, or look back at what was left behind. Because I know who and what I am, and I know where I am going. And I know that when I finally get there, you'll be coming to join me.
Because we'll always wind up at the same place when the sun goes down for good, Raleigh.
We are all together in this incomprehensible wait.”
― K. Ancrum, The Weight of the Stars

“When the time came, she was ready.

Ryann Bird walked the hall of ages: from the gates of man to the arches of the gods, and thought about what it meant to be Ryann Bird.”
― K. Ancrum, The Weight of the Stars

“They don't want the danger, and the darkness and loneliness," Alexandria interrupted softly. "They want the heat and the light, but they don't want radiation."

Roland closed his mouth and looked at Alexandria with indescribable pain and indescribable fondness.

"The stars have weight," Alexandria finished. "And my little life wasn't heavy enough to outweigh your want of it.”
― K. Ancrum, The Weight of the Stars

“And suddenly, with a jolt of horror, he realised that he couldn't live without it anymore. It was as much a part of him as anything now. He couldn't run from it any more than anyone could run out of their own skin. It would just keep coming back, over and over, curling up out of him, growling like hunger.
He would crave the burn until he was dead.
August curled up against the wall and put his head in his arms.
He gripped the lighter so tightly that his knuckles went white.”
― K. Ancrum, The Wicker King

“Jack kissed him so carefully that August thought he would fall to pieces. Kissed him with the weight of knowing the price of risk. Then he gazed back at August like his heart was already breaking.

It was the same face that Jack had made on the roof, in the middle of the night, when they rolled in the grass, when he sat back with August’s blood and ink on his hands, when his face was lit orange with flames, when he’d opened the door to Rina’s room, when he stared across the gym at the homecoming dance, when he pulled him from the river and breathed him back to life.

Jack had been waiting. He’d been trying. He was scared. There were tears in his eyes and it took August’s breath away.”
― K. Ancrum, The Wicker King

“He had failed. He had failed in every possible way with every possible choice he had ever made. Jack was still crazy. He was alone. And he was in a prison of his own design. The embarrassment and regret were choking him from the inside out, and all of a sudden he was screaming.
It started small, but it bubbled bigger every minute. Rising black and ugly through the veins in his feet, up and up, bursting his cells and filling his lungs, encasing itself around his bones and finally spilling from his eyes, tacky like tar. It tumbled from his mouth in a howl of rage so deep it shook his teeth. The hairs rose on the back of his neck.
It was a shout of pain so pure and hot, he could have sworn it was burning out his eyes.
And then, like a living nightmare, his howl roused the other patients to noisemaking. Like a battle cry. It soared above the symphony of their screams of confusion and fear, the banging on the doors and the weeping. Soared above all. A phoenix that burned and fell to ash before it could set alight the room at the very end of the hall where the dreammaker lived, imprisoned by his visions. Unanchored and unnoticed in the dark.”
― K. Ancrum, The Wicker King