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Beware the man who faces you unarmed. If in his eyes you are not the target, then you can be sure you are the weapon.
A uniquely upsetting curse, really, how little he knew how to exist when she wasn’t there;
Knowledge is carnage. You can’t have it without sacrifice.”
The trauma of him was exquisite, the vice of his intimacy combative and honeyed.
aberrations.
irascibly
the sort of perfectionist who was so desperately frightened of being any degree of inadequate that, on occasion, the effort of trying at all was enough to paralyze her with doubt.
Only the dead kept secrets.
“I already know what you can do without trying,” Dalton warned. “I want to see what happens when you try.”
They had all fallen into a rhythm of sorts, and the coming disruption of their fragile peace felt especially inconvenient, even troubling.
“But the moment we realize we can feel fulfilled without carrying the burdens of belonging to another—that we can experience rapture without being someone’s other half, and therefore beholden to their weaknesses, to their faults and failures and their many insufferable fractures—then we’re free, aren’t we?”
She was powerful on her own.
Thoughts were so rarely dismissed once they’d been picked up and toyed with, and a mind successfully altered could rarely, if ever, revert.
What was being human except to crave things unreasonably?
“We are the gods of our own universes, aren’t we? Destructive ones.”
“That’s my origin story, if you’ve been paying attention.”
“Don’t concern yourself with the me in your head,” Parisa said eventually. “She doesn’t exist, Nico. Only I do.”
abhorrent
but nothing could buy happiness,
all a person was capable of controlling was himself.
It wasn’t a matter of anything changing between them so much as Libby no longer being the person she had once been.
That was some transitional Libby who’d been searching for a disturbance, seeking something to shatter her a little.
The Libby Rhodes that Tristan knew was a collection of imperfections, a constellation of absentminded marks.
