Speaking of hope, did you see that shot Alec got off with his bow? That's my boyfriend.

What if everything you believe is wrong and you could still be loved and still be forgiven?

Are you in fashion? You look like you're in fashion.""No," [Magnus] said. "I am fashion.

How can you not care?""Practice," Magnus said, looking back to his book and turning the page.

Moreover, I wish to assure you both that I did not make any amorous advances on female monkeys.

In Paris one could have the eyes of a cat (as he did) and tell people it was a trick of fashion.

Being remembered, and remembered so kindly, touched him more than he would have thought possible.

Magnus, you were trying to flirt with your own plate.""I'm a very open-minded sort of fellow!

Someday," Magnus said, looking at the crumpled royal person at his feet, "I must write my memoirs.

I've got a stele we can use. Who wants to do me?""A regrettable choice of words," muttered Magnus.

[Magnus] held on to the boy, newborn in grave dirt and blood, and he wished that he had found him dead.

Magnus gazed dreamily in his direction. "You should leave him here. I could hang hats on him and things.

He recognized and accepted this strange new feeling: that he would rather be hurt himself than hurt Alec.

Do you not tire of eternity? Do you not wish to end your suffering?""By leaping into the Void? Not really.

But it was mortality that made them what they were, the flame that blazed brighter for it's flickering