A Conjuring of Light (Shades of Magic, #3)

by V.E. Schwab

This is why I run. Because caring was a thing with claws. It sank them in, and didn’t let go. Caring hurt more than a knife to the leg, more than a few broken ribs, more than anything that bled or broke and healed again. Caring didn’t break you clean. It was a bone that didn’t set, a cut that wouldn’t close.

Alucard had taken a dangerous girl and made her positively lethal, and he knew that combination was likely to be the end of him, one way or another.

“Do you ever get tired of running, Bard?” She cocked her head. “No.” Alucard’s gaze went to the horizon. “Then you haven’t left enough behind.”

“Love and loss,” he said, “are like a ship and the sea. They rise together. The more we love, the more we have to lose. But the only way to avoid loss is to avoid love. And what a sad world that would be.”

Of all the ways to die, only a fool chooses pride.”

A myth without a voice is like a dandelion without a breath of wind. No way to spread the seeds.