Life, unfortunately, doesn't seem to care what we want. - Richelle Mead, Last Sacrifice

"What was love, really? Flowers, chocolate, and poetry? Or was it something else? Was it being able to finish someone's jokes? Was it having absolute faith that someone was there at your back? Was it knowing someone so well that they instantly understood why you did the things you did—and shared those same beliefs?"

"I wasn't fooled. He was avoiding looking at me. "There's nothing to talk about.""I knew you'd say that. Actually, it was a toss-up between that and 'I don't know what you're talking about.'"Dimitri sighed."

"I'm backing down now. I really do love you. That's why I'm doing this."

"Ah, my daughter,ʺ he said. ʺEighteen, and already youʹve been accused of murder, aided felons, and acquired a death count higher than most guardians will ever see.ʺ He paused. ʺI couldnʹt be prouder."

"What was love, really? Flowers, chocolate, and poetry? Or was it something else? Was it being able to finish someone's jokes? Was it having absolute faith that someone was there at your back? Was it knowing someone so well that they instantly understood why you did the things you did—and shared those same beliefs?"