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“What doesn’t destroy you will reshape you. Remember this, Celeste. Remember that the same fire that transforms sand into glass can turn logs into ash.”
“You two were soulmates.” “What? I thought—Jarod . . .” “He wasn’t her soulmate.” “But—” “Mate means friend, Celeste. Jarod . . . I believe he was more. I believe he was her neshahadza—her soulhalf.”
“Because we aren’t the sum of our mistakes but the sum of how we deal with them.”
Perception was subjective.
“She will be displeased.” “And if you don’t leave now, I will be displeased!”
“I tried that. I tried it for an entire week, and then you had to go and sign on to your ex, and I went so blind with rage that here I am making a fool of myself, attempting to hold on to someone who despises all that I am and all that I do.”
“I don’t see how my smolder’s duration has anything to do with you not being able to get your wings out of my face.” “Celeste,” he growled. “What, Seraph?” “I’m winging you.”
“You can feel mine, Celeste, because my reckless soul has decided it belongs with yours.”
“Ah, my beautifully temperamental pride and joy.”
“Of course you know. That’s why you do it. To irritate me.”
“The tour guides here are pretty handsy.”
