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“You don't always keep on the top", she began again. "My life, my career has been like a roller coaster. I've either been an enormous success or just a down-and-out failure, which is silly because everybody always asks me, 'How does it feel to make a comeback?' And I don't know where I've been! I haven't been away." She paused, and Vangkilde waited. "It's lonely and cold on the top...lonely and cold," she said very quietly.”

“You don’t always need to speak. Just because something can be said doesn’t mean it should be. Not every situation needs your opinion, not every moment needs a reaction. Sometimes, silence is your smartest move — not out of fear, but out of clarity. It gives you space to think, to listen, to understand what’s really going on beneath the surface. Words can build or break — and once spoken, you can’t take them back. Holding back isn’t suppression; it’s choosing not to waste energy where it won’t be valued or understood. It’s knowing the difference between what’s helpful and what’s just noise. In personal life, in work, in conflict — people who master silence often see more, understand more, and carry fewer regrets. In a world that’s quick to react, real strength is choosing to stay quiet — not because you have nothing to say, but because you know not everything needs to be said.”

“You don't believe in it, you say. Well you're right, in a way. Only Evil and Greater Evil exist and beyond them, in the shadows, lurks True Evil. True Evil, Geralt, is something you can barely imagine, even if you believe nothing can still surprise you. And sometimes, True Evil seizes you by the throat and demands you choose between it and another, slightly lesser, Evil.”

“You don’t believe in leprechauns. A myth you say they be. You don’t believe in pots-o-gold, or four-leaf-clover tea. You don’t believe the rainbow’s end alights on treasured finds. They are illusions meant for fools you say ‘ave lost their minds. You don’t believe in whispering your wishes to the wind, where on St. Patrick’s holiday they blow t’wards Ireland. You don’t believe in magic spells or longings coming true. Yet, head-to-toe you dress in green on Patty’s Day, you do.”

“You don’t believe me about Luke,” Annabeth said, “but we’ll see him again. He’s in trouble, Percy. He’s under Kronos’s spell.” I didn’t feel like arguing, though it made me mad. How could she still have feelings for that creep? How could she possibly make excuses for him? He deserved that fall. He deserved… okay, I'll say it. He deserved to die. Unlike Bianca. Unlike Zoё. Luke couldn’t be alive. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“You don't belong in Jack's world, and he doesn't belong in yours. My advice is to get out while you can." I glared at him with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. "You think you know everything about me, but I'm not a nice girl. I've done bad things. I've been arrested, handcuffed, and interrogated in the police station as an accessory to crime. I've broken laws. I've been threatened, kidnapped, tied up, and was an active participant in a high-speed car chase. I know who Jack is. I have a good idea about what he does. And I can make my own decision about whether we're good together or not, which, by the way, we are, subject to smoothing out a few wrinkles." George chuckled. "So, you're saying that what you see isn't what you get. You're no lightweight." "Damn right.”