“He was done with politics and intrigue. He loved her, and no empire, no king, and no earthly fear would keep him from her. No, if they tried to take her from him, he'd rip the world apart with his bare hands. And for some reason, that didn't terrify him.”
“This girl wasn‘t like wildfire—she was wildfire. Deadly and uncontrollable. And slightly out of her wits.”
“If you can feel someone else‘s suffering, how can you look away?”
My heart was on the verge, if not of explosion than of collapse, hurtling to an inward oblivion, sucking down with it the very ground I stood on.
Under the influence of a very strong gin and tonic combined with a comfortable chair in Agatha's garden, Helen began to relax…
Love isn‘t waiting for someone to remember me. Love isn‘t dreaming about them all alone. Love is talking together, forgiving each other, finding common threads in the lives we want.
Whatever the future might bring, whatever darkness might be lurking around the corner, she‘d always have this.
He had been committed, absorbed and unthinking. Intentionally, because the story was so good. So good he felt like he‘d been damaged by it, permanently.
You don't have to know every turn of the road in order to walk down it.
In the car, Charlie turned to the empty seat beside her where her own shadow fell. “Okay, kid,” she told it. “The universe belongs to the curious.”
Something crafted with so much love could never sink.
“If you can live with that, then I‘d tell you my one remaining ‘I wish you wouldn't‘ ”.
He opens his eyes. “Which is?”
“I wish you wouldn't leave this room.”
Safe?‘ Miss Tatton glanced at him, but kept up her pace. ‘Ain‘t much that‘s safe, young master, when a girl must work for a living.
I puzzled over the difference in words— between tourist and traveler.
She turned her head so slowly, it was like watching a puppet move. Her eyes met his. Death watched him. But Death had walked beside him every day of his life. So Cassian stroked his thumb along her palm and said, “Hello, Nes”.
“Never enough. Not to paint him, know him. Eons would never be enough for all I wanted to do, see with him. For all I wanted to love him.”
And will you come with me; On this adventure - and all the rest?
Always.
“She‘s mine,” he said quietly, but viciously enough “And if any of you lay a hand on her, you lose that hand. And then you lose your head. And once Feyre is done killing you,” Rhys smirked, “then I‘ll grind your bones to dust.”
The moon showed her face, casting the garden below in silver and shadow.
“Not at all”, Lillian said brightly. “What is the point in me keeping things to myself now? Who have I left to disappoint?”
“Certainly not yourself, dear,” Aunt Em said, with entirely too much glee.
They were young, bright, and happy. This is how victim pictures always look.
There is nothing wrong with the love of Beauty. But Beauty - unless she is wed to something more meaningful - is always superficial.
But the world would be in a lot of problems if it ran out of imagination
No one is too old for a story before bed
Some people see a bookshop as an archive, or a shrine, or even a time machine. But I think a bookshop is like a map of the world. There are infinite paths you can take through it and none of them are right or wrong. Here in a bookshop we give readers landmarks to help them find their way, but every reader has to learn to set their own compass.
He could find hatred in his heart for her, too, if he went looking for it. The secret of a happy marriage was not to go looking for it.
I loved her. And if I had to run, hide, and fight for that love, I would. For the rest of my life, I would.
Pretty porcelain, pretty doll, with hair as black as night, She cries alone within her pall, her tears so green and bright.
I saw tempests to tear apart kingdoms, secrets bared and secrets kept. Secrets drowned in boundless depths.
