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“He obviously wanted to leave on a snappy comeback, but couldn’t think of one. I suppose he wasn’t ever called on to produce them in the ordinary course of things. After a moment of struggle, he just scowled and stalked out. I’m delighted to report my repaired door slammed shut on his heels beautifully.”
― Naomi Novik, A Deadly Education

“And if you are going to be an old hen about it and waste your time clucking over every scrap of clutter, you should know in advance that I won't be assisting."
"Old hen!" he exclaimed. "Well, of course you won't help. You'll spend the evening in your preferred manner, hunched over in some dark corner like a troll.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands

“My heart burns with anger, but the part of me that’s still his responds to him, still wants to believe there’s hope. It’s the thing I love and hate most about love: Hope dies last.”
― Melanie A. Smith, Everybody Lies

“You texted Garcia for help?" Jack gritted out. "Garcia? Not me?"
"He has a gun."
"So do I."
"He's steady and reliable," I said. "He doesn't disappear for eight months. He doesn't go on business trips that require burner phones and secret codes. He doesn't refuse to tell me what he does for a living. I texted HELP and I knew he'd come. I wasn't sure about you."
"You don't think I would have come if you'd texted me for help?" Indignation laced Jack's tone.
"For all I knew, you were being tossed out a window in Rio, tortured by the Italian Mafia in Tuscany, or you were in the North Sea trapped in a Russian submarine."
"The Italian Mafia are based in Sicily," he corrected me. "Tuscany doesn't have the port access they need for the drug trade."
I folded my arms and sighed. "You missed the point entirely.”
― Sara Desai, 'Til Heist Do Us Part

“I looked across the table and caught Jack watching me while Chloe and Gage whispered sweet nothings to each other. "What are you looking at?" I demanded.
"You."
My heart squeezed in my chest. "Well, don't look at me. I would say don't talk to me, either, but we need to get this thing done."
"Would it help if I apologized?" Sincerity oozed from every pore of his handsome face. It was incredibly irritating.
"Apologize for what? For ghosting me? For kissing Clare? For failing to tell me about your past or your psychotic bunny-boiling ex? For making her so angry that she ratted us out to a Mafia boss who has threatened to kill me and my friends?”
― Sara Desai, 'Til Heist Do Us Part