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“ Tamquam, said Ronan, and Adam said, Alter idem.
Cicero had written the phrase about Atticus, his dearest friend. Qui est tamquam alter idem. Like a second self.
Ronan and Adam couldn’t hug, because they had no real arms, but it didn’t matter. Their energy darted and mingled and circled, the brilliant bright of the sweetmetals and the absolute dark of the Lace. They didn’t speak, but they didn’t have to. Audible words were redundant when their thoughts were tangled together as one. Without any clumsiness of language, they shared their euphoria and their lurking fears. They rehashed what they had done to each other and apologized. They showed everything they had done and that had been done to them in the time since they’d last seen each other—the good and the bad, the horrid and the wonderful. Everything had felt so murky for so long, but when they were like this, all that was left was clarity. Again and again they spiraled around and through one another, not Ronan-and-Adam but rather one entity that held both of them. They were happy and sad, angry and forgiven, they were wanted, they were wanted, they were wanted.”
― Greywaren
Cicero had written the phrase about Atticus, his dearest friend. Qui est tamquam alter idem. Like a second self.
Ronan and Adam couldn’t hug, because they had no real arms, but it didn’t matter. Their energy darted and mingled and circled, the brilliant bright of the sweetmetals and the absolute dark of the Lace. They didn’t speak, but they didn’t have to. Audible words were redundant when their thoughts were tangled together as one. Without any clumsiness of language, they shared their euphoria and their lurking fears. They rehashed what they had done to each other and apologized. They showed everything they had done and that had been done to them in the time since they’d last seen each other—the good and the bad, the horrid and the wonderful. Everything had felt so murky for so long, but when they were like this, all that was left was clarity. Again and again they spiraled around and through one another, not Ronan-and-Adam but rather one entity that held both of them. They were happy and sad, angry and forgiven, they were wanted, they were wanted, they were wanted.”
― Greywaren
“He wanted to tear through Julian’s skin and map the shapes of liver and lungs, to memorize the path of every artery with his fingertips. He wanted to break Julian’s body open and move inside it alongside him, rib cages interlaced around a single heart.”
― These Violent Delights
― These Violent Delights
“Love had changed the situation. Niall didn't yet love the strange, dangerous child, but he loved Declan, and Declan loved Ronan. So Ronan lived.”
― Greywaren
― Greywaren
“The first coherent thought that comes to his mind is this: he doesn't know how to live if not constantly on his guard. He doesn't know how to move around a house without cringing at the sound of floorboards creaking underfoot. He doesn't know how to tame a fire that's been burning out of control since before he knew how to speak of it. Max has been burning bridges practically since he was old enough to understand the concept. He doesn't know if he's ever been anything but reactive. It was simple: he didn't get hurt if people weren't around to hurt him.”
― Old Wounds
― Old Wounds
“He could not remember the last time he had cried.
It was not just Glendower he was mourning. It was all the versions of Gansey he had been in the last seven years. It was the Gansey who had pursued him with youthful optimism and purpose. And it was the Gansey who had pursued him with increasing worry. And it was this Gansey, who was going to have to die. Because it made a fatal sort of sense. They required a death to save Ronan and Adam. Blue's kiss was supposed to be deadly to her true love. Gansey's death had been foretold for this year. It was him. It was always going to be him.
Glendower was dead. He'd always been dead.
And Gansey kind of wanted to live.”
― The Raven King
It was not just Glendower he was mourning. It was all the versions of Gansey he had been in the last seven years. It was the Gansey who had pursued him with youthful optimism and purpose. And it was the Gansey who had pursued him with increasing worry. And it was this Gansey, who was going to have to die. Because it made a fatal sort of sense. They required a death to save Ronan and Adam. Blue's kiss was supposed to be deadly to her true love. Gansey's death had been foretold for this year. It was him. It was always going to be him.
Glendower was dead. He'd always been dead.
And Gansey kind of wanted to live.”
― The Raven King
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