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Quote by Kathy Bryson

“He thinks you were trapped in a tree in the 1920s. How is that not crazy?”

Quote by Kathy Bryson

Book:Restless Spirits

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Restless Spirits

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“Why did God, the creator give fairies free will and egos like humans on earth? “God gave fairies an ego and mind of their own, so that they can create a self-sustaining world and paradise. It would have had to have been overseen by many people, and creators, if the fairies did not have free-will and egos. It is this set of traits that they use to earth’s advantage, to produce more flowers and grass and trees wherever it is needed. It is able to look after itself, on its own accord without it being dependent on its maker. Do you see?l”

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Book:Fairy Sparkles

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“Simon Snow, it hurts to look at you when you’re this happy. And it hurts to look at you when you’re depressed. There’s no safe time for me to see you, nothing about you that doesn’t tear my heart from my chest and leave it breakable outside my body.”

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Book:Wayward Son

Source: Wayward Son

“My favourite part of kissing Simon when he’s cold is the way he goes warm in my hands. Like I’m the living campfire. Like I’m the one who lives. I warm him in my arms, and then he warms me in his. He gives it all back to me. I’d give him all that I am. I’d give him all that I was. I’d open up a vein. I’d tie our hearts together, chamber by chamber.”

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“Baz is standing in front of a full-length mirror, wearing—I swear to Merlin—a flowered suit.”

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“Simon looks over at me. “What?” “Nothing,” I say. “What?!” he shouts. He can’t hear a thing I’m saying over the wind and the engine and the classic rock. “I hate this fucking car!” I shout back. “The sun is burning me! I might actually catch fire, at any moment!” The wind is blowing Simon’s hair straight, and he’s squinting—from the sun and from all the smiling. “What!” he shouts at me again. “You’re so beautiful!” I shout back. He turns the radio down, so now there’s just the wind and the engine noise to shout over. “What’d you say?!” “Nothing!”

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“Simon catches up with me and traps me against the car. He’s kissing me before I see it coming, bending me back over the boot. “You were amazing,” he says, taking a breath. “You didn’t even need a wand.”

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“So hot,” Simon says. “Got to see you fight without picking a fight with you myself. [...] “I promise to be just as hot later,” I say. “I’ll start fires all the way across the Midwest.”

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“He looks away from me, covering his mouth. “What are you laughing at.” He looks down, but waves his hand at me. “You—your—” I refuse to look down at myself. “My what, Snow?” “Your hair.” I refuse to touch my hair. “You look like that guy, with the wig—” He mimes playing the piano. “Duh, duh, duh, duhhh.” “Beethoven?” “I don’t know his name. With the big wig. There was a film about him.” “Mozart. You’re saying I look like Mozart.” “You’ve got to look, Baz, it’s a scream.”

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“Baz is touching me, and it's good. (Touching Baz is always good; it'd be easier if I could just touch him all the time. And kiss him. And not have to be kissed.)”

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“A month ago, I would have walked to the sofa and touched his shoulder. Three months ago, I would have dropped a kiss on his cheek. Last September, when he and Bunce first moved into this flat, I would have had to pull my mouth away from his to ask the question, and he might not have let me finish.”

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