A Map of Days (Miss Peregrine's Peculiar Children, #4)

by Ransom Riggs

She took my other hand and squeezed it, and her warmth and solidness seemed to lend the world some weight.

We kissed one more time. It felt like an electric pulse, and left every part of me tingling. Then she slipped out the door, and for the first time since my friends had arrived, I was alone.

“Just appreciating the scenery,” I said, and then I drew her close and kissed her. She slid her arms around me and kissed me back, and I was overwhelmed by a tingling warmth that flooded my brain and a sudden sensation of being out of my body, like I had floated up to the ceiling and was looking down on the soft, beautiful face of this amazing girl and my friends and the whole sweet scene, and I wondered how it was that such an exquisite moment had appeared in my life.

That smile—my God—it lit me up from the inside.

“Until they have traveled, even the most educated person is ignorant.

“Even the most terrible era of the past is at least knowable. It can be studied. The world survived it. But in the present, one never knows when the whole world could come to a terrible, crashing end.”

“And you don’t get to tell me you love me, and tell me we’re going to be together, and flirt with me and be cute and sweet and strong and amazing and all the wonderful things that you are and then be heartsick about him and tell him you love him behind my back!”