Summer

“The center will hold.
Will it, Sydney? I wondered.
Because I’m falling apart.”
― Richelle Mead, The Fiery Heart

“Too bad I couldn’t take Hopper out drinking with me. He could have become Bar Hopper.”
― Richelle Mead, The Fiery Heart

“Then why are you crying?”
“Because of you!” I beat my fists on his chest. “Because I love you, and I don’t know what to do! I can solve almost any problem, but I can’t solve this. I don’t know how to deal with that. And I’m afraid! Afraid for you! Do you know what it’d do to me if something happens to you?” I stopped hitting him and clasped my hands over my own chest, as though there was a danger my heart might fall out. “This! This would break. Shatter. Crumble. Crumble until it was dust.” I dropped my hands. “Blown away on the wind until there was nothing left.”
― Richelle Mead, The Fiery Heart

“I’m not a violent person, Sydney. Not at all. I’ll make love over war any day. But I swear, if they’d hurt you—”
“They didn’t,” I said firmly. I refused to let him know how scared I’d been because I was afraid he might go after them. “I’m fine. You came to the rescue.”
A smile played at his lips. “Something tells me you would’ve rescued yourself.” And like that, the smile vanished. “But spirit would’ve been a lot more effective than a branch.”
“Your treejitsu was very effective.”
― Richelle Mead, The Fiery Heart