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“You’ve settled for a comfortable distance from him so that you can yearn without suffering. Sorry, but you’re not in love. You’re a fan. Boring, lethargic, overfed. If you really loved him, you’d be in Seoul right now. You’d be walking the streets day and night in search of him. The magnitude of the task would crush you until you became a ball of pulp containing just your heart. All other organs—crushed into dysfunction.”

I missed him so much that my eyes filled with tears. How was it that I missed someone I’d never met before? Someone I hoped to meet one day. Could this mean it was possible to miss the future?

...he designs his lyrical content and sexual appeal with the specific intent of exploiting the most basic of human emotions, like loneliness, or the desire for unconditional love, and then derives massive profit from his vampirism.

The boy was my ambassador, sent to a foreign land with which my own land was in delicate relations. I’d never visited this country myself, maimed king as I was.

If his beauty radiated upon the world, my beauty was local, covering about as much distance as bad breath.

If most people looked for someone to love, she, like a tax collector, looked for those who failed to love her and made them pay up.