Edward

“...Alecto's eyes."
A ripple of ice over the face. A hardening of the mouth. He said quietly, "Don't call her -"
"ALECTO ALECTO ALECTO!" repeated Mercy shrilly. The other lyctors flinched each time she said it, as though it were an oral stab. "John, you are trying to start a fight with me to get out of the fight I am trying to have with you, which is a painfully domestic tactic.”
― Tamsyn Muir, Harrow the Ninth

“Won’t you look at me, Camilla Hect?”
Camilla murmured something that Nona could not hear. The body said, “I died, and you carried me. I gambled, and you covered my bet. You kept the faith, and were the instrument of both my vengeance and my grace. And now I have fought through time, and the River, and Ianthe the First—fought and bested Ianthe the First, and I hope I never fight her ever again…Will you not look at me now, Cam, and know me?”
Camilla raised her chin. She looked at the dead face. She said quietly—“Yes Warden. I will always know you.”
Their foreheads touched. Camilla reached out with her slippery hand, and Palamedes clasped it with Ianthe Naberius’s cold, gloveless one. Because both of their hands were very messy, it made an embarrassing squelch, but neither of them appeared to notice or care. Nona had to look away.
She heard Palamedes say, in the voice of Ianthe Naberius—“Pyrrha, I can barely do anything. I’m only the hand in a sock puppet. I don’t think I could unpick a single ward, and I can’t do a damn thing for Cam’s bleeding—thank God nothing’s protruding.”
Cam said, without opening her eyes, “Don’t worry about me, Warden. I’ll walk it off.”
“Yes, thank you for your input,” said Palamedes pleasantly. “I’ve taken it under advisement and will add it to the next agenda.”
Camilla smiled that wonderful hot-metal smile that Nona loved as long as she had been alive.
“Jackass.”
― Tamsyn Muir, Nona the Ninth

“Dozens of kids left the venue with sleeves of vinyl held under their arms, fanning out into the city streets, my mother's face on the cover, her hand reaching toward the camera like she's just let go of the hand of someone below.”
― Michelle Zauner, Crying in H Mart

“But when I think of you, I want to be alone together. I want to strive against and for. I want to live in contact. I want to be a context for you, and you for me.

I love you, and I love you, and I want to find out what that means together.”
― Amal El-Mohtar, This Is How You Lose the Time War