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Antimony sometimes thought that if she were to total up the amount of time she spent upside down—between her work with the family and taking the occasional header during roller derby—she’d probably be able to qualify as an honorary bat.
Fern is a sylph, a walking fuck you to the laws of physics. Her density is sort of optional, and she can make herself heavier or lighter with a thought. It shouldn’t work. Biology and physics both say it shouldn’t work. But she does it anyway, because what’s the point in having scientific laws if you can’t break them once in a while?
barn that probably doesn’t actually contain livestock,
I’m not a book snob, I love my paperbacks as much as the next girl, but there’s a certain degree of weird literary bullshit that will never, ever come out in paperback.
“Never go into a book. Either it’s a dimensional portal, which is bad, or it’s some sort of Dungeons and Dragons-style mimic-thing, which is also bad, although in a less ‘we’ll never find your body’ sort of a way.”
without triggering a full-out assault on the crossroads, and I don’t think even she could survive that
“I hope you never have to learn what you’re not willing to give up. Knowledge like that always costs so much more than you were hoping to pay.”
Someone to study with and snipe at was basically my idea of a day at the spa.
If someone popped up and told me they were the chosen one, destined to save the world from darkness, I’d ask them very nicely to get away from me, in case it was catching.”
Half my family isn’t actually related to me, aunts and uncles and cousins and even siblings we’ve acquired somewhere along the way and refused to put back where we found them.
There was a time when I thought I was the smart one in my family. Now I just think I’m the one who was saving up all her stupidity to use it in one gloriously impressive display of What Not To Do.
“The family record is fifty-three, currently held by my mother, who is absolutely terrifying
“Is disarming the traps a mating ritual for you people?” demanded James, aghast.
If I was my friend, I’d look forward to the chance to hit me, too.
This isn’t happiness. This is weaponized joy.
“I’m not,” said Sam. “I’m pissed. I would never have missed you if I hadn’t met you. I could have been too ignorant to know that I wasn’t really happy up until the day I died.”
“No, I’m making Harry Potter references because I’m an enormous nerd and it amuses me to remind you of that,”
“I’m a Price, Leo. Do Prices bluff?”
“I’m beginning to question the wisdom of recruiting you,” he said sourly. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth.” “I’ve been telling you that for a while,” I said brightly. “You in?”
blinked. Then, helplessly, I began to laugh. This seemed to annoy James further, thus proving that he was a sensible man who’d simply had the misfortune to fall in with a bunch of weirdos.
Prices rest. Maybe it’s because we run so hard and so fast while we’re alive, but when we die . . . Prices rest.
“Eh, I try to follow the rules about not creating a hostile workplace,” said Shelby.
