Some men die for lack of love…some die because of it. Think about it." - Daemon

Is that why you've been pushing me away? Because of how you look? [...] I waited for you my whole life. Yearned for you my whole life. After Tersa told me you were coming, I spent seven hundred years searching for you[....] I never gave a damn what you looked like--tall, short, fat, thin, plain, beautiful, ugly. Why would I care about what you looked like? The flesh was the shell that housed the glory[....] Even if I couldn't be your physical lover, there are other ways to be a lover and I know them all. So don't stand there and tell me how you feel depends on how you look!

This year he'd been caught up in a whirlwind called Jaenelle Angelline-as impossible to deflect as she was to stop-and he had become an accomplice in all sorts of schemes that, even in their innocence, had been thrilling

As they walked toward the group waiting for them by the cars, Simon's hand brushed against Meg's. He hesitated for a step or two; then he took her hand, ready to release her if she growled an objection. But after a startled look, she smiled and curled her fingers around his.

She's magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.

He gently kissed that scar and felt something changing inside him - just a flutter of change, there and gone, but leaving its mark.