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1,265 books
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2,257 voters
S.M. Fielden
https://www.goodreads.com/smfielden
“Ink on your skin means you're hiding things," he told Ronan.
"That's what breathing means," Ronan replied.”
― Call Down the Hawk
"That's what breathing means," Ronan replied.”
― Call Down the Hawk
“Ronan rummaged in his jacket pocket and removed a package of peanut butter crackers. He unwrapped one as the raven became suddenly attentive.
"Cracker," he said to her.
"Krek," she replied.
"Cracker," he repeated.
"Krek,"
"Cracker,"
"Kreker,"
He gave her one. "The other's if you get Opal.”
― Call Down the Hawk
"Cracker," he said to her.
"Krek," she replied.
"Cracker," he repeated.
"Krek,"
"Cracker,"
"Kreker,"
He gave her one. "The other's if you get Opal.”
― Call Down the Hawk
“There's such thing as an emotional cost,” Adam said. “Investing in someone else's survival isn't free, and some people's emotional banks are already overdrawn.”
― Call Down the Hawk
― Call Down the Hawk
“Ronan was a cloud, and he was raining.”
― Call Down the Hawk
― Call Down the Hawk
“Declan Lynch knew he was boring.
He'd worked very hard to be that way, after all. It was a magic trick he didn't expect any prize from but survival, even as he looked at other lives and imagined them his. He didn't fool himself. He knew what he was allowed to do and to want and to put in his life.
He knew Jordan Hennessy didn't belong.
But still, when he came back from the National Gallery of Art to his empty town house, he closed the door behind him and for a moment he just leaned against it, eyes closed, pretending—no, not even pretending. He just didn't think. For one second of one minute of the day, he didn't run the probabilities and worst-case scenarios and possibilities and consequences. For one second of one minute of the day, he just let himself feel.
There it was:
Happiness.”
― Call Down the Hawk
He'd worked very hard to be that way, after all. It was a magic trick he didn't expect any prize from but survival, even as he looked at other lives and imagined them his. He didn't fool himself. He knew what he was allowed to do and to want and to put in his life.
He knew Jordan Hennessy didn't belong.
But still, when he came back from the National Gallery of Art to his empty town house, he closed the door behind him and for a moment he just leaned against it, eyes closed, pretending—no, not even pretending. He just didn't think. For one second of one minute of the day, he didn't run the probabilities and worst-case scenarios and possibilities and consequences. For one second of one minute of the day, he just let himself feel.
There it was:
Happiness.”
― Call Down the Hawk
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S.M.’s 2025 Year in Books
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