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Kindle Notes & Highlights
But even then, I noticed her eyes meet Roque’s. They are the messenger pigeons from his story, crossing again and again in the sky. How excited he was to be reunited with her.
How far away those warm days seem from this cold place, where petals are metal instead of soft like silk.
He’s bent and broken as he walks to the stars to push his lost girl out among them.
“It feels … how do you say … bloodydamn good.”
“History is written by the victors.”
“He’s got one hand. You’ve got one eye. I have a type.”
I long for the cold, quiet nights before love when it was only lust and hunger, where we would kiss in secret, hearts fluttering, like two little birds realizing they might build a nest together after all.
“Always, Darrow. Always.”
It’s like the giants have little ridiculous elves inside them just waiting to spring out and cackle. Just takes a lot of provocation.
“And thus go liars, with a bloodydamn kiss.”
