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Seven Deadly Thorns
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Ashley Poston
“Sometimes the people you loved left you halfway through a story. Sometimes they left you without a goodbye. And, sometimes, they stayed around in little ways. In the memory of a musical. In the smell of their perfume. In the sound of the rain, and the itch for adventure, and the yearning for that liminal space between one airport terminal and the next. I hated her for leaving, and I loved her for staying as long as she could. And I would never wish this pain on anyone.”
Ashley Poston, The Seven Year Slip

Emily Henry
“I like how in the end, it seems like it's actually a hard decision for some people. There will be two or three contestants they feel a strong connection with, and it doesn't come down to choosing the strongest one. Instead, it's like... you're watching them choose a life.
And that's how it is in real life too. You can love someone and still know the future you'd have with them wouldn't work for you, or for them, or maybe even for both of you. [...]
You watch someone date all these people, and you see how different they are with each of them, and then you watch them choose. Some people choose the person they have the best chemistry with, or that they have the most fun with, and some choose the one they think will make an amazing father, or who they've felt safe opening up to. It's fascinating. How so much of love is about who you are with someone.”
Emily Henry, People We Meet on Vacation

Ashley Poston
“You never commit a mundane moment to memory, thinking it'll be the last time you'll hear their voice, or see their smile, or smell their perfume. Your head never remembers the things your heart wants to in hindsight.”
Ashley Poston, The Seven Year Slip

Pierce Brown
“My name is Felicia au…” I feint a whip at her face. She brings her blade up, and Victra goes diagonal and impales her at the belly button. I finish her off with a neat decapitation. “Bye, Felicia.” Victra spits, turning to the last Praetorian.”
Pierce Brown, Morning Star

V.E. Schwab
“Sixty minutes to an hour. Twenty-four hours to a day. These are mortal measurements, for mortal lives. But when you live forever, time is something far less constant. When you are happy, a decade rushes by. When you are sad, a minute crawls. When you are lonely and afraid, time seems to lose all meaning. Blink, and a year is gone. Blink, and it has only been a night. Only, it is not a life at all. It is a prison sentence.”
V.E. Schwab, Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil

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