Cristina

“You forget.” I pressed my fingers against her nape, forcing her to look up at me. “You’re my fiancée. Not Kai’s. Not anyone else’s. I don’t give a fuck how handsome they are or what type of accent they have. You’re mine, and no one…” I dipped my head, my lips brushing hers with each word. “Touches what’s mine.”
― Ana Huang, King of Wrath

“När hon kom ut från duschen, påklädd och med blött hår,
tittade hon på mig med den där hoppfulla blicken, och jag tittade tillbaka som om jag inte kände igen henne.
Helt tom. Jag såg hur hennes blick slocknade. Jag såg hur hennes kärlek till mig dog.
Jag hade dödat den.”
― Jenny Han, We'll Always Have Summer

“I wanted to tell the book thief many things, about beauty and brutality. But what could I tell her about those things that she didn't already know? I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race-that rarely do I ever simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.”
― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

“Hans axlar skakade. Han grät. Det kändes som om hjärtat skulle brista i mig när jag hörde honom vädja så där, när jag såg honom så blottad och sårbar.”
― Jenny Han, We'll Always Have Summer