The Raven King (The Raven Cycle, #4)

by Maggie Stiefvater

“Emptying another student’s backpack over his car. I don’t really want to talk about it.” “I do,” Ronan said. “Well, I don’t. I’m not proud of it.” Ronan patted her leg. “I’ll be proud for you.”

Ugly fucker was going to get shot by some terrified farmer someday.

He wished there was someone here to see just how aesthetically pathetic and desperate he looked.

“Hey, Shitlord,” Ronan said to Gansey. “Are you weeping?”

He kicked the side of Gansey’s shoe. “Sphincter. You asleep?”

“Whatever, Dad.” “You know what?” Gansey said, standing.

When pressed too close to something huge and personal, Gansey ducked away into cheery politeness.

“I was trying to protect you, you little pissant.” “Well, it would’ve been a fuckton easier if I’d known more,” Ronan snapped back.

Henry smiled sunnily. “Ho! The natives are restless. Hello, my people! Don’t worry, I’ll establish a higher minimum wage for you all!”

Blue shouted, “Drop dead, you bastard!” “FINE!” Henry screamed back, with slightly more hysteria than the role required. He attempted to squeal out of the lot, stopped to take off the parking brake, and then limped out more sedately.

“Take your shoes off before you go wandering around, shithead,” Ronan said.

I regret the minute I squirted him into you,

he realized how much Declan had missed by growing up neither dreamer nor dreamt.

Henry was aware he had a great vocabulary. It was not the same thing as having the words you needed to express yourself.

Easier to believe that he was a gallant ship tossed by fate than to captain it himself.

“You have to slam it,” Gansey said. Henry shut it. “Slam it,” Gansey repeated. Henry slammed it. “So violent,” he said.