I never taught him to break his thumb."
"That's Gansey for you. Only learns enough to be superficially competent."
"Loser," Ronan agreed, and he was himself again.

Now Gansey grinned, the warmth of discovery starting to course through him. "So, pop quiz, Mr Parrish. Three things that appear in the vicinity of ley lines?"
"Black dogs," Adam said indulgently. "Demonic presences."
"Camaros," Ronan inserted.
Gansey continued as if he hadn't spoken. "And ghosts. Ronan, queue up the evidence if you would.

I found it."
"People find pennies," Gansey replied. "Or car keys. Or four-leaf clovers."
"And ravens," Ronan said. "You're just jealous 'cause" - at this point, he had to stop to regroup his beer-sluggish thoughts - "you didn't find one, too.

When Gansey was polite, it made him powerful. When Adam was polite, he was giving power away.

Where the hell is Ronan?” Gansey asked, echoing the words that thousands of humans had uttered since mankind developed speech. As he stepped out of the science building, he tipped his head backwards, as if Ronan Lynch – dreamer of dreams, fighter of men, skipper of classes – might somehow be flying overhead.

Saw him where?"
"While I was sitting outside with one of my half aunts."
This seemed to satisfy Ronan was well, because he asked, "What's the other half of her?"
"God, Ronan," Adam said. "Enough.