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“ ”When the monster struck a blow, Conor felt the sting of it in his own fist. When the monster held Harry's arm behind his back, Conor had felt Harry's muscles resisting.
Resisting, but not winning.
Because how could a boy beat a monster?
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— No lo entiendo. ¿Aquí quién es el bueno? — No siempre hay un bueno. Ni siempre hay un malo. Casi todo el mundo está en algún punto intermedio.
War is a monster...War is the devil. It starts and it consumes and it grows and grows and grows...And otherwise normal people become monsters, too.
"Viola?" he says.
And I turn to look at him -
And when I do, I can hear everything he's thinking.
Everything.
Clearer than before, clearer than seems possible -
And I'm not even sure I'm supposed to, but I look him in the eyes and I see it -
In the middle of everything he's feeling -
Even after we fought -
Even after I doubted him -
Even after I <i>hurt</i> him -
I see how much he loves me.