Best 12 quotes of Summer Lane on MyQuotes

At last, somebody in line steps forward. “I can commit,” he says. He’s a tall, lean young man with a rifle slung over his back. “What’s your name?” Chris asks. “Andrew,” he replies. “And I’m in.” Chris nods. A few other guys step forward and, after a few moments, the entire crowd of ex-POWs takes one step, signifying their decision. My chest swells with pride – pride for Chris’s leadership, pride for the people willing to give their lives to take down Omega. It’s a rush.

Despite everything, every piece of Alaska sang to me. I remembered every curve in the trails, every tree in the forest. It was familiar to me, comfortable. The more I thought about leaving it, the less I liked the idea. This was my home.

Grief is like an ocean. It comes in waves - some waves are bigger than others and you cannot prepare for it.

I can take you,” I reply. “But if you try anything, I’ll shoot you right between the eyes. Seriously.” He almost smiles. “Yes, ma’am.

I didn't care, because I loved him, and that was the end of every argument and the beginning of every promise.

I don’t know how it happened. Nobody does. There are only theories, empty rhetoric and doomsday prophecies. None of them are right, but none of them are completely wrong, either. They all have a grain of truth. All I know is where I was and what I was doing when it happened.

I’ve never been on a bike,” I say. “I mean, I’ve been on a bike but not a motorcycle.” “And why is that?” he asks. “Bugs. They get in your mouth, right? That’s just gross.” Chris makes a face. “If you ride around with your mouth hanging open, I assume that could be a possibility.

Outside, the dogs whine over the wind. They sense the wolves - they sense the wild. It calls to them, like it calls to me, and I wonder sometimes if we are the only ones who hear it.

Things used to be easy. Flip a switch? On goes the light. Press a button? You’re calling your parents. Swipe a credit card? You just paid for lunch. Easy, simple, convenient. Nothing is like that anymore

This is a kiss worthy of a blood-soaked battlefield, a kiss born out of tragedy and misery and death and loss. A kiss that has been long in the making, one that I have strenuously avoided, and he has tortuously waited for.

We'll fight,' I interrupt. 'And if we die, that's how it ends. Fighting. With purpose.

What’s your name?” I ask again. “Chris,” he says. “Chris Young.” I exhale dramatically, blowing my bangs out of my eyes. “I can take you,” I reply. “But if you try anything, I’ll shoot you right between the eyes. Seriously.” He almost smiles. “Yes, ma’am.