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Lemons and rosemary.
Butterflies in your stomach. That was such a crappy metaphor. More like killer bees.
A little-known fact about me: I read all the time.
Macon Melchizedek Ravenwood was the town shut-in. Let’s just say, I remembered enough of To Kill a Mockingbird to know Old Man Ravenwood made Boo Radley look like a social butterfly.
but there was nothing my dad wouldn’t do for Amma.
“Prudence Jane, keep lookin’. This boy is testin’ our memory.”
Aunt Grace was busy picking all the pretzels out of the Chex Mix.
Aunt Grace jumped up out of her chair, as much as any ninety-something-year-old woman can jump.
Fall outta the crazy tree and hit every branch on the way down?”
Amma would have a heart attack. “You come down or I’m coming up.” A heart attack, and then a stroke. We sat out on the front step. I was in my jeans, because I didn’t sleep in pajamas, and if Amma had walked out and found me with a girl in my boxers, I would’ve been buried under the back lawn by morning.
I was about as far from being a Caster as you could get, unless aggravating Amma counted as a power.
I’d inherited my mother’s belief that a library was sort of a temple.
It’s not the house that protects her. It’s the boy.
Darkness, real darkness, was something more than just a lack of light.
Boo was backing away on his belly. Smart dog. I wished I could crawl out of the room, too.
Mortals only see what they want to see.
I had tried to explain that you could let cats outside and they would come back whenever they felt like it, but Aunt Mercy had looked at me like I’d suggested she shack up with a married man.
Watch the television. Just keep your nose away from those books.” My mom would have laughed, the idea that I wasn’t allowed to read a book.
“Oh, Great Mother! Ethan, what are you doing?” Apparently, grave digging brought Aunt Del back to the present.
Another mysterious thing about girls—they want to be asked to stuff even if they don’t want to go.
Honey, sugar, molasses, and cherry lollipops, all rolled into one.
the mess, you couldn’t tell a Little Miss from a Southern Belle. They all looked like pastel-colored drowned rats.
“I’m just the librarian. I can only give you the books. I can’t give you the answers.”
It wasn’t my mother’s smile, but it was one of my mother’s favorite smiles.
“Mortals. I envy you. You think you can change things. Stop the universe. Undo what was done long before you came along. You are such beautiful creatures.”
paged through it, wearing Amma’s old garden gloves that were way too small.
stood up and shouted up the stairs. “Lena Duchannes. If you sic those stairs on me again, I’m gonna report you to the Disciplinary Committee myself.”
Ryan looked like she was going to cry. “Boo’s hurt, too?”
when I looked into her eyes, I noticed for the first time that one was green, and one was hazel—actually, more like gold.
Seventeen moons, seventeen years, Eyes where Dark or Light appears, Gold for yes and green for no, Seventeen the last to know.
