Jesteśmy społecznością, która kocha książki

You’re my re­ward.”
“What a rot­ten re­ward I am.”
“Not to me. Why do you think every­one needs some sort of re­com­pense for being around you?” he says, his voice so gentle I al­most start to cry. He wraps an arm around me, press­ing me against his chest, and I can feel the light touch of his hand on the back of my neck, fin­gers strok­ing my hair. “You don’t owe me sex. You don’t owe me any­thing. I’m with you be­cause I want to be. And if we’re to­gether, it’ll be be­cause we both want to be. And we are going to Lon­don to­gether be­cause we want to. And it’s going to be a dis­aster. But that’s all right, be­cause we’ll have each other, and there’s no one on this god­damn planet I’d rather be a dis­aster with than you.

We are tough and stu­pid to­gether and we are going to be tough and stu­pid to­gether for the rest of our lives.

Percy starts to laugh again, loud and heady. I could drink that sound forever and never again touch a bottle of spir­its.