How the King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories (The Folk of the Air, #3.5)

by Holly Black

the shape of her boot in the soil, as though she was the only real thing in a land of ghosts.

Tell me it means nothing, that it was just a bit of fun, he thought. Tell me and everything will be as it was before. Tell me and I will pretend along with you.

“My door,” Cardan replied. “I most certainly am.” He promptly fell down the front steps.

all you really get to control is yourself.”

Having a heart is terrible, but you need one anyway.