delirium

Well, Clarice…have the lambs stopped screaming?

Ronan Lynch, ferocious and dark.

“You really do want me,” I say, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath as it hitches. “And you hate it.” I change the angle of the knife, turning it so it’s against his neck. He doesn’t look nearly as alarmed by that as I might expect. Not nearly as alarmed as when I bring my mouth to his.

Don't worry, i won't bite. well, at least not in the way you're afraid of.

Your eyes can be so cruel Just as I can be so cruel.

But strange and marvelous as she was, a wisp of silk in a forest of black wool, she was not the fragile creature one would have her seem.

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can’t rest. then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right.

The first boy i ever kissed ended up in a coma for three weeks. i can still feel him inside my head.

You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don’t let you off homework today. i assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in.

I take what I need to from those who have more than enough. I don't stand on the shoulders of people with less.

And Cardan is even more beautiful than the rest, with black hair as iridescent as a raven’s wing and cheekbones sharp enough to cut out a girl’s heart. I hate him more than all the others. I hate him so much that sometimes when I look at him, I can hardly breathe.