Hawkins Quotes

It sucks that we miss people like that. You think you've accepted that someone is out of your life, that you've grieved and it's over, and then bam. One little thing, and you feel like you've lost that person all over again.

Good luck explaining to God that you used to spank one of his heavenly beings." Mom gave a startled laugh. "Sophie!" "What? You did. I hope you like hot weather, Mom, that's all I'm saying.

Let's just say you may regret that second piece of cake.' Oh my God. Regret cake? Whatever was about to happen must be truly evil.

Hollowness: that I understand. I'm starting to believe that there isn't anything you can do to fix it. That's what I've taken from the therapy sessions: the holes in your life are permanent. You have to grow around them, like tree roots around concrete; you mold yourself through the gaps

I have never understood how people can blithely disregard the damage they do by following their hearts.

Whoa, I'm your girlfriend now?" Archer shrugged. "We've tried to kill each other, fought ghouls, and kissed a lot. I'm pretty sure we're married in some cultures.

Wow, Cross. I think you missed your calling. Screw demon hunting: you should clearly be writing Hallmark cards.

None of this makes any sense." "I'm beginning to think I should make that the title of my autobiography.

Dad was at his desk when I opened the door, doing what all British people do when they're freaked out: drinking tea.

Archer isn't hot anymore.... He tried to kill me, and his girlfriend is Satan.

So if you can heal with your touch, why are you working here as like, Hagrid, or whatever?

So did The Eye come here looking for me?" "Actually, we came because we heard it was free corn dog night. Imagine our disappointment.

But this room looked like it had been decorated by the unholy lovechild of Barbie and Strawberry Shortcake.

She was my assignment." "From The Eye?" "No, from the Boy Scouts. That Witch Dating badge just kept eluding me." "Well, you must have at least three Total Douchebag badges by now, so that has to count for something.

Please don't joke and bleed at the same time.

There’s something comforting about the sight of strangers safe at home.

Dad, she's just going to freak. And probably come here and get me, and then you guys will start yelling at each other, and I'll have to act out by wearing lots of eyeliner and doing the drugs

I have lost control over everything, even the places in my head.

it’s possible to miss what you’ve never had, to mourn for it.

It just seems like overkill when you already have a dagger and I have superpowerful magic at my disposal.” “‘Superpowerful?’”He stood up, a gold chain dangling from his fingers. “Let me remind you of two words, Mercer: Bad. Dog.

Now, Sophia, would you care to tell me why you're here by the pond instead of reporting to your next class?' 'I'm experiencing some teenage angst, Mrs. Casnoff,' I answered. 'I need to, like, write in my journal or something.

When someone tells you somebody’s been murdered, laughing is probably not the best response. You know, for future reference. But laughing is exactly what I did.

The holes in your life are permanent. You have to grow around them, like tree roots around concrete; you mould yourself through the gaps.

Sophia Mercer," Elodie intoned, "we have come to induct you into our sisterhood. Say the five words to begin the ritual." I blinked at her. "Are you freaking kidding me?" Anna gave an exasperated sigh. "No, the five words are 'I accept you offer, sisters.

Jackass, jackass on the wall, where's the info on Hex Hall?

This thing with us is the only real thing I've had in a long time. You're the only real thing." He raised our hands and kissed my knuckles. "And I'm done pretending I don't want you.

Most girls got flowers. I got a dirt pit used for demon raising. Nice.

There’s nothing so painful, so corrosive, as suspicion.

Life is not a paragraph, and death is no parenthesis. (This is a reference to an E.E. Cummings poem within the author's work)

Um...Mercer? Haven't seen you in nearly a month. I was expecting something like, 'Oh Cross, love of my heart, fire of my loins, how I've longed--

Both of us widened our eyes and said, "Woah." Then I immediately blushed. Oh my God, had I just looked at Archer and said, "Whoa"? But...wait a minute. Had Archer just looked at me and said "Whoa"?

I heard the man and woman cry a warning as I frantically racked my brain for some sort of throat-repairing spell, which I was clearly about to need. Of course the only words that I actually managed to yell at the werewolf as he ran at me were, 'BAD DOG!' Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of blue light on my left. Suddenly, the werewolf seemed to smack into an invisible wall just inches in front of me.... "You know," someone said off to my left, "I usually find a blocking spell to be a lot more effective than yelling 'Bad dog,' but maybe that's just me.

When did you become so weak?” I don’t know. I don’t know where that strength went, I don’t remember losing it. I think that over time it got chipped away, bit by bit, by life, by the living of it.

I want to drag knives over my skin, just to feel something other than shame, but I'm not even brave enough for that

Well, that explained it, then. Secret demon hunter and thief. Man, did I know how to pick 'em.

How is it that you can go from decent human being to complete jackass in zero-point-two seconds? Did they teach you that in The Eye?" He stopped, and his eyes glided over my lips. "Actually, I'm just trying to see if I can make you mad enough to kiss me again.

Don't worry about it," I said."Hey werewolves gotta drool, vampires gotta eat..

I expected him to do his usual thing of "Oh, Sophie, but that is impossible b/c of this big word, and that big word, and also this abstract concept.

We could go to Lough Bealach,' Aislinn answered. 'Is that a place, or are you choking?' I asked, earning me a glare in return. Dad made a strangled sound that might have been a laugh.

You know, Take Your Demon To Work Day.

I was literally seeing stars, and every ragged breath I took felt like I was trying to breathe through broken glass. On the upside, my crush on Archer was totally gone. Over. Once a boy has slammed his kneecap into your rib cage, I think any romantic feeling should naturally go the way of the ghost.

Archer! Let us fetch a spot of tea, old boy!

I was about to try Skill Fifteen, which involved both breaking his nose and potentially ending his chances of ever having kids, when my captor bent down and whispered in my ear, "Don't even think about it, Mercer.

Check out the magic crap.” He shot me a look. “Oh, is that what we’re supposed to be doing? Because I’ve just been drawing hearts and our initials in the dirt.

Cal had been waiting for us at the pond. When he’d seen me, he’d given me a barely perceptible nod, which was the Cal version of waving his hands over his head and yelling, “Hey, Sophie!

I should say upfront that I have never been in a cellar in my life. In fact, I can see no reason why anyone should ever go into a cellar unless there is wine involved.

He raised an eyebrow, which made me totally jealous. I've never been able to do that. I always just end up raising both of them and looking surprised or scared instead of sardonic.

I wish we could go to the movies." I stared at him. "We're in a creepy dungeon. There's a chance I might die in the next few hours. You are going to die in the next few hours. And if you had one wish, it would be to catch a movie?

But I did become sadder, and sadness gets boring after a while, for the sad person and for everyone around them.

The "Holy-crap-that's-a-lot-of-pink" zone would have been a more accurate description.

Archer turned back to me, and that familiar grin flashed over his face. “Come on, Mercer. Me, you, the cellar. What could go wrong?

I think I might have seen pride in Dad’s eyes. Or maybe it was just a gleam of Why is my offspring so insane?

Must be weird for you, having your mom here." "Weird for me, weird for her, probably weird for you since you had to give up your swinging bachelor pad." "Mrs. Casnoff let me install my heart-shaped Jacuzzi in my new dorm room." "Cal," I said with mock astonishment, "did you just make a joke?" "Maybe.

I can’t do this, I can’t just be a wife. I don’t understand how anyone does it—there is literally nothing to do but wait. Wait for a man to come home and love you. Either that or look around for something to distract you.

No. Don't distract me with your sexy talk.

Cal stepped forward, hopefully to come to my rescue. "I could toss her off the pier, Ms. Vanderlyden." Or not.

let’s be honest: women are still only really valued for two things—their looks and their role as mothers.

Okay, fine. But just so you know, following me into hell means you’re all definitely the sidekicks.” “Darn, I was hoping to be the rakishly charming love interest,” Archer said, taking my hand.

Trust me, after the Boy Issues I’ve had, I’m becoming a nun.

Archer Cross, resident bad boy and total heartthrob. Warlock. Every girl here is at least, like, half in love with him. Crushing on Archer Cross might as well be a class.

Yeah, I was thinking about taking one of those showers where you huddle in the corner fully clothed and cry," Archer offered.

Bruce Wayne's parents get killed and he goes to Tibet or whatever, and Superman is an alien, and Spiderman had that radioactive spider. Me? I kissed a janitor in the school bathroom.

I’m playing at real life instead of actually living it.

So hologram means--" I finally said. "It means non-corporeal, yeah. Which sucks seeing as how there are a lot of very corporeal things I'd like to do with you right now.

He ran his thumb over my lower lip, sending a flurry of sparks through me. "Good-bye, Sophie." -Cal

...And of course, your dad was always talking about you, so between him and Jenna, I feel like I already know you.” Man, first Cal, then Lara and the other Council members, now Vix. Did Dad have a blog about me or something? “My Daughter Sophie and Why You Should All Follow Her and/or Marry Her.

I don't know what I was expecting a vampire's room to look like. Maybe lots of black, a bunch of books by Camus... oh, and a sensitive portrait of the only human the vamp ever loved, who had no doubt died of something beautiful and tragic, thus dooming the vamp to an eternity of moping and sighing dramatically. What can I say? I read a lot of books.

What are those people doing?" Jenna whispered to me. "I don't know," I replied through a frozen grin, "but I'm afraid a musical number might be involved.

I tugged at the hem of my brand-new Hecate Hall issue blue plaid skirt (Kilt? Some sort of bizarre skirt/kilt hybrid? A skilt?)

I wish we weren't like this. You know, demon, demon-hunter. I wish I'd met you in a normal high school, and taken you on normal dates, and like, carried your books or something.

And I’ve just got to let myself feel the pain, because if I don’t, if I keep numbing it, it’ll never really go away.

I think I can hold my own in smartassery.

Why had my life suddenly become a Nancy Drew mystery from hell?

You hate him for what he did, but you miss him.

A smile played around the corners of his mouth. He looked up at me. "Bad dog.

Where the heck was I while you were playing Grand Theft Cellar?

You can't do a blocking spell, and you've never heard of L'Occhio di Dio? Man, what kind of witch are you?" I had an incredibly nasty retort ready that involved his mother and the U.S. Navy, but before I could get it out....

I didn't actually think you were hanging out at Hex Hall because of your burning love for me. But that's what I'm telling all the girls back at school," I said, stabbing a forkful of eggs. "I'm thinking 'heartbreaker' might be a nice addition to my 'avenging witch' reputation.

All the magic in the world can’t simplify affairs of the heart.” (Sophie's dad)

The great thing about best friends is that they know you really well. And the terrible thing about best friends is that they know YOU really well.

It’ll make you feel better.” "By making me dead?” I asked. “I mean, I’m sure that would make my headache go away, but that’s a heck of a side effect.

And I have faith that you'll make a wonderful head of the Council someday, Sophie." Yeah, except for that whole sleeping with the enemy part, I thought. Wait, not that I would actually be sleeping with...I mean, it's a metaphor. There would only be metaphorical sleeping.

Mom always liked to say that we hardly ever know the decisions we make that change our lives, mostly because they are little ones. You took this bus instead of that one and ended up meeting your soul mate, that kind of thing. But there was no doubt in my mind that this was one of those life-changing moments.

I picked up the nearest weapon I could lay my hands on: a stapler. I lifted it, going for “menacing.” I admit it lacked a certain elegance, but hey. It was worth a shot. David placed his hand on my arm and pushed it back down. “What?” “Just . . . that’s embarrassing for all of us,” he replied.

Right. So no plans at all then?" Jenna frowned. "Other than rocking in the fetal position for a while?" "Yeah, I was thinking about taking one of those showers where you huddle in the corner fully clothed and cry," Archer offered.

As I stomped across the school grounds, all I could see was Cal sitting with my dad in some manly room with leather chairs and dead animals on the wall, chomping on cigars as my dad formally signed me away to him. They probably even high-fived.

At a normal high school, having class outside on a gorgeous May day is usually pretty awesome. It means sitting in the sunshine, maybe reading some poetry, letting the breeze blow through your hair...At Hecate Hall, a.k.a. Juvie for Monsters, it meant I was getting thrown in the pond.

Names are just words. I know that. But learning that the last name I’d used all my life was fake… “So what should I call myself, then?” I asked. “Sophie Atherton? Sophie Brannick?” Both sounded weird and made me feel like I was wearing clothes that didn’t fit. Mom smiled and brushed my hair away from my face. “You can call yourself whatever you want.” “Okay. Sophie Awesome Sparkle-Princess it is.

Oh, come on, Sophie. Don't you get it? He's L'Occhio di Dio's ultimate weapon. They used him as a spy at Hecate for years, so what makes you think that's stopped now? This is probably just his new assignment, getting close to you so he can use you for information about the Council." "Actually, I was just going to use her for her body, but that's a good idea, too.

You know, I can see more than just the future or the past." "Really?" I asked, paging through through the papers in the file. "Can you also see the present? Because I can do that, too. Like, right now, I sense that I'm in a messy room with a total toolbox.

It occurred to me that my cheek was probably right over his tattoo. Without thinking, I lifted my face and tugged at the neckline of his T-shirt. This time, the stark black-and-gold mark wasn't hidden. No need for that spell anymore, I guess. Still, I covered it with my palm. Archer's hands clutched reflexively on my waist. Our eyes met. "It doesn't burn this time," I whispered. His breathing was ragged. "Beg to differ, Mercer.

I am not the girl I used to be. I am no longer desirable, I’m off-putting in some way. It’s not just that I’ve put on weight, or that my face is puffy from the drinking and the lack of sleep; it’s as if people can see the damage written all over me, can see it in my face, the way I hold myself, the way I move.

Anyway, even if Archer was insane enough to have a thing for Sophie, after the All Hallow’s Eve Ball, he won’t even think about looking at another girl.” “Why?” “I’ve decided to give myself to him.” Oh, gross. Who says stuff like that? Why didn’t she just say “delicate flower” or “carnal treasure” or something equally stupid?

The long flight from Georgia to England had been pretty uneventful. Exceept that Cal had sat next to me. Which was fine. Really. It wasn't like I'd been hyperaware of his presence and jumped the three times his knee bumped mine. And adter that third time, he definitely hadn't shot me a kind of disgusted look and said, "Chill out, will you?" And when Jenna gave us both a quizzical look, we hadn't snapped, in unison, "Nothing!" Because all of that would have been weird, and Cal and I weren't weird. We were cool.

Last semester was intense,” I said to Dad. “Intense?” he echoed, picking up my file. “Let’s see. On your first day at Hecate, you were attacked by a werewolf. You insulted a teacher, which resulted in semester-long cellar duty with one Archer Cross. According to the notes, the two of you became ‘close.’ Apparently close enough for you to see the mark of L’Occhio di Dio on his chest. I flushed at that, and felt Mom’s arm tighten around me. Over the past six months, I’d filled her in on a lot of the story with Archer, but not all of it. Specifically, the whole me-making-out-in-the-cellar-with-a-murderous-warlock-working-with-the-Eye-part.

We could argue in front of our lockers all dramatically," I said. "That's something I saw a lot at human high schools." He squeezed me in a quick hug. "Yes! Now that sounds like a good time. And then I could come to your house in the middle of the night and play music really loudly under your window until you took me back." I chuckled. "You watch too many movies. Ooh, we could be lab partners!" "Isn't that kind of what we were in Defense?" "Yeah, but in normal high school, there would be more science, less kicking each other in the face." "Nice.

Yeah, and we still have to deal with The Eye being…Eyeish, and me learning to be Head of the Council, which will probably involve lots of boring books and—” Archer pressed his mouth to mine, effectively shutting me up and kissing the hell out of me. When he pulled back, he was grinning. “And you have an arrogant, screwed-up former demon hunter who is stupidly in love with you.

She plunged her snout into my hair and took a deep shuddering breath. A warm string of drool dripped from her open maw onto my bare shoulder. I forced myself to stay very calm, and after a moment, she released me. Giving a bashful shrug, she said, "Sorry. Werewolf thing." "Hey, no problem," I said, even though all I could think was, Slobber! Werewolf slobber! On my skin!

Archer?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. Hey, you might be able to take away my magical powers, but the power of sarcasm was still at my disposal. “Is your last name Newport or Vanderbilt? Maybe followed by some numbers? Ooh!” I said, widening my eyes, “or maybe even Esquire!” I’d hoped to hurt his feelings or, at the very least, make him angry, but he just kept smiling at me. “Actually, it’s Archer Cross, and I’m the first one. Now what about you?” He squinted. “Let’s see . . . brown hair, freckles, whole girl-next-door vibe going on . . . Allie? Lacie? Definitely something cutesy ending in ie.” You know those times when your mouth moves but no sound actually comes out? Yeah, that’s pretty much what happened. And then, of course, my mom took that opportunity to end her conversation with Justin’s parents and call out, “Sophie! Wait up.” “I knew it.” Archer laughed. “See you, Sophie,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the house.

Oh, good, it worked,” Archer said, his ghostly face relieved. Unlike Elodie, his voice came in loud and clear, and so familiar that my heart broke all over again. I stood frozen, my back against the door. Even though he was faint, I could see him smirk. “Um…Mercer? Haven’t seen you in nearly a month. I was expecting something like, ‘Oh, Cross, love of my heart, fire of my loins, how I’ve longed—’” “You’re dead,” I blurted out, pressing a hand against my stomach. “You’re a ghost, and you think—” All the humor disappeared from his face, and he held up both hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not dead. Promise.” My heart was still hammering. “Then what the heck are you?” Archer almost looked sheepish as he reached inside his shirt and pulled out some kind of amulet on a thin silver chain. “It’s a speaking stone. Lets you appear to people kind of like a hologram. You know. ‘Help me, Sophie-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.’” “Did you steal it from the cellar at Hecate, too?” Archer had collected all sorts of magical knickknacks back when we had cellar duty at Hex Hall. “No,” he said, offended. “I found it at a…store. For magical stuff. Okay, yes, I stole it from the cellar.