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

by V.E. Schwab

It was cowardice, he knew, but cowardice came so much easier than hope.

“Life isn’t made of choices,” said Holland. “It’s made of trades. Some are good, some are bad, but they all have a cost.”

“Do you truly believe that he’s a god?” Holland rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what someone is. Only what they think they are.”

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.

“Death comes for us all,” said Holland evenly. “I would simply have mine mean something.”

“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.”