The Taken (Celestial Blues #1)

...a companion had seemed unnecessary fuel when her body still burned at the core, waiting to ignite. But now, with the wind blowing icicles through her [Kit] veins, it felt like she, too, was in the grave. All her nuclear energy had been snuffed like a match between the night's icy fingers.

Because you can't unknow your life's experiences,' Grif said. This was his area of expertise.

'Being single...is about hope. It's about the future...the person you might meet at Starbucks or online or in the next aisle at the grocery store.'

But many details were considered too small and mundane for the Centurions' purposes. They tapped the mud too briefly for things like new-fangled coffee-makers to matter. Instant coffee that tasted like a wet dream was apparently one of them.

But they weren't in an ideal world. And it was too bad, Kit thought, exiting the shop. Bridget might have talked to her if they were. Kit might have been able to trust her. And neither of them would have to fear a man with a whole different sort of thrust-corrupted, soured, rotting...and seemingly unstoppable.

Charis sipped, smiling back. "...I saw God everywhere."
Grif narrowed his eyes. "Really?"
She nodded and leaned close. "We were actually pen pals. I'd write Him letters in Latin and leave them in my closet."
"Why the closet?"
She shrugged. "Because He didn't appear after I set my front yard's bushes on fire, so I decided He was shy.

...Death," she said, as her hand dropped away, " is how you know you were alive in the first place.

Even now...she [Kit] still had a need to believe that most people, that most of life, was good. That belief was a sort of strength, too.

'Even pain is impossibly exquisite.'

Even with tortured minds and broken spirits, even bound to the Surface, they ached for God's presence. It would be like being drawn back into the womb. It would be rest. It was the only real redemption there was.

'Everything has its place. Let in only those things that are greatly desired, no more and no less. That's how to make sense of the world, and the only real way to achieve happiness.'

I saw you, looking like Hayworth, making me want to pin you up, pin you down, take you for a different kind of ride altogether

'I scrape under a nail and I pull out dirt. I pull off an overlay and I smell urine. It's the rot of their lives seeping into their nailbeds, you see? They can fix their hair and paint their nails and run on a treadmill until they're anorexia's poster child, but they can't fix their lives...lives of rotting perfection.'

It ain’t ever over. You can’t have no future if you don’t have no past, and the past ain’t never done with you.

'It ain't ever over. You can't have no future if you don't have no past, and the past ain't never done with you...At the end of your life, all you have is what you know.'

'It's much easier to destroy a life than it is to live one.'

Kit loved ginger hair. It put her in mind of blue skies and green hills and made her fantasize about French-kissing young, rebellious English princes on imaginary Welsh vacations.

Now her life was under attack, and she [Kit] was shocked to find how fragile everything she'd built really was. She was dumbfounded, too to find that while people were being ripped from her life like paper dolls from a chain, she longed to be the one who'd be gone first.

People created chaos, not places, and they were damned good at it no matter where they lived. And when this glittering gem of a city teamed up with the world's oldest profession, fantasy piled atop fantasy; it could convince anyone that impulse was a virtue, not a vice.

'Plenty of men are good at acquiring money and cars and things, but only a few have real forward motion. You know. Thrust.'

'Sex drives us, love or no love. Power or no power. Money or no money. It's the most powerful drug in the world. Some pay for it. Some die for it.'

She needed facts. Facts were bricks. Maybe she could build herself a wall with them, too, one tall and wide and strong enough to keep her alive when he was gone.

So. You're a fallen angel." She folded her arms.
"I'm not fallen," he said roughly.
"Then what are you?"
He shrugged. "Busted.

Success, she [Evie] claimed, made people want to trust you.

The only bone in my body he ever loved was his.

'We've all had judgement lapses that had us tiptoeing toward our own personal apocalypse.'

'When there's time for everything, there's value in nothing.'

Why the hell was she smiling like that?...Her mouth was blown so wide that the soft insides showed at the corners, like another grin was building in there. As if her laughter tumbled. Like joy was a living thing.

'You love her without willing it or wanting it, and that is the most exquisite pain of all.'

...you've been rooked. You know,you got the dust off. Killed. Murdered. Clipped. It's a rough deal, but you've had some good times, right?