Niko popped a spare slice of bacon in his mouth, chewing it up contentedly. “I hate being a soul, being dead. You know what I hate most about it?”“No sex?” Sophie guessed.“That’s what I hate second most about it. No, what I hate most is—”“That you can’t lie,” Adrian cut in. Niko lifted his eyebrows at him, impressed. “You do know me. Exactly right.”“And no bacon,” Freya added.

— Molly Ringle

No, here I brought back because..." Niko lifted his chin toward the moon. "She's magical."" I get that, if by 'magical' you mean 'hot.'"" I also mean magical.

— Molly Ringle

She knew nothing of Ren except his name, his aptitude with vocabulary, the fact that he wasn’t in college, and the way his hair narrowed to a curling point at the nape of his neck. And she hadn’t even realized she knew that last thing until now.

— Molly Ringle

She re-read his email four times, feeling offended and breathless, like he had casually grabbed her head and stuffed it into a pile of wet leaves.

— Molly Ringle

So we came to say hello. To the world’s grouchiest person. Because that’s such fun.

— Molly Ringle

That was how people got through life, he supposed: by acknowledging death and telling it, “Not today.

— Molly Ringle

..." There’s really no way I can explain it to her without *still* sounding like scum," I complained to Sinter." The 'sympathy shack-up' doesn’t score many points," he agreed.*

— Molly Ringle

Yes, he knew it was crazy to be this obsessed over an encounter that had taken up maybe sixty seconds of his life. (Or had it been an hour and sixty seconds?) But what an encounter. His fingers still felt the bones and flesh through her sweater, his tongue still tasted her mysterious bitter-greens mouth, her voice still haunted him with that whispered 'Help me.

— Molly Ringle

You’re being nicer to me than I've been to you lately," I said." Yes, I am. But then, Hitler was nicer to Poland than you've been to me lately.

— Molly Ringle

You're lucky I'm drawn to things that are sick and weird. Makes it so I can actually still like you.

— Molly Ringle