“listen,” she said. “i don’t expect you to understand but it’s rough to be in love with the wrong person.”

“dumb of me not to have seen it earlier, after all the injuries, the crushed leg, the multiple surgeries; adorable drag in the voice, adorable drag in the step, the arm-hugging and the pallor, the scarves and sweaters and multiple layers of clothes, slow drowsy smile: she herself, the dreamy childhood her, was sublimity and disaster, the morphine lollipop I’d chased for all those years.”

“they gave me an arabic name. badr al-dine. badr is moon. it means something like moon of faithfulness. they said, boris, you are moon because you light everywhere.”

"you were a mess, theo — fun to be with, most of time! up for anything! but a mess."

“you wouldn’t be my family, you’d be m'lady.”

“we are the wild hunt. those who hunt with us hunt forever.”

“i want you to know that i’m not scared. well, not of dying, anyway. it’s more forgetting. it’s losing myself to this virus, that’s what scares me.”

“take this! please, tommy. please...”

Post of Newt's arms appreciation [1/?]

But you didn't.

i jumped off it.

the maze broke his spirit. the fall broke his leg. the flare broke his mind. the end broke his heart. he was the glue who fix everybody. ...but himself.