Did you get notes for me?"
"No", Ronan replied,"I thought you were dead in a ditch.

Where the hell is Ronan?” Gansey asked, echoing the words that thousands of humans had uttered since mankind developed speech. As he stepped out of the science building, he tipped his head backwards, as if Ronan Lynch – dreamer of dreams, fighter of men, skipper of classes – might somehow be flying overhead.

At the sight of Gansey's Aglionby sweater, Adam's father had charged out, firing on all cylinders. For weeks after that, Ronan had called Gansey "the S.R.F.," where the S stood for Soft, the R stood for Rich, and the F for something else.

If Glendower had not saved Gansey's life, he did not know who to thank, or who to be, or how to live.

It'll be OK. I'm ready. Blue, kiss me.

Wanting to live, but accepting death to save others: that was courage. That was to be Gansey's greatness.