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come all the spiders are men?” “Because then it feels more satisfying to squish them,”
Storytelling is an art
“Oh, you’re going to come back half a fish,” Rhia said. “Trust me.” “Which half?” “The bottom half,” she said, after a moment’s consideration. “Think of how much money I’ll save on shoes.”
“Be safe. Be smart. Be sweet.”
When men fall into the sea, they drown. When women meet the water, they transform.
The only enemy is the sea.
It’s the fear we have to learn. The fear keeps the sea from taking
“I’ve never swooned in my life,” she said crossly. “Of course not,” Preston said,
Gosse is going to choke on his mustache.”
Meeting his stare, she realized what she felt was closer to affection. Even—maybe—passion. And Effy couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same.
The two of you look cozy.”
realistic, but the world would be a better place if everyone just told the truth.” It was a strangely naive thing to say. Effy had never thought much about the lies she told—she didn’t feel good about them, but they didn’t rend her apart with guilt, either. Lying was a form of survival,
He hadn’t touched her, but Saints, she wanted him to.
I didn’t know you felt anything at all when you looked at me.” “I did. I do.”
You can die as easily of thirst as you can of drowning.
That things are only beautiful because they don’t last. Full moons, flowers in bloom, you.
“I can’t wait to torment him.” Effy could easily imagine it. “Be careful. He’s a very stubborn arguer.”
And the sea, the sea, it whispers the secret of how all things end.
groaned as Preston tried to urge her out of bed. “Coffee,” he reminded her in a lofty, plying voice,
