Quotes from Holly Black

He presses his mouth to the pulse point of my wrist, racing in time with my heart. "Mock me all you like. Whatever I imagined then, now it is I who would beg and grovel for a kind word from your lips." His eyes are black with desire. "By you, I am forever undone.

To remind me, pain is the best teacher

Faeries make up for their inability to lie with a panoply of deceptions and cruelties. Twisted words, pranks, omissions, riddles, scandals, not to mention their revenges upon one another for ancient, half-remembered slights. Storms are less fickle than they are, seas less capricious.

She's going to want to wear your skull for a hat," Oak warns. There is an uncomfortable shifting among the ex-falcons. Perhaps they are recalling their own choice to denounce her, their own punishment. "And Cardan is going to laugh and laugh when she does.

Kiss my ass Rath Roiben Rye

You're a pretty cool customer, huh?" says Agent Hunt. "I hide my inner pain under my stoic visage." Agent Hunt looks like he would like to put his fist through my stoic visage.

She thought of something her mother had told her when she'd finally broken up with one of her most dysfunctional boyfriends. When a man tells you he's going to hurt you, believe it. They always warn you and they're always right.

Memory is slippery. It bends to our understanding of the world, twists to accommodate our prejudices. It is unreliable. Witnesses seldom remember the same things. They identify the wrong people. They give us the details of events that never happened. Memory is slippery, but my memories suddenly feel slipperier.

Allow me to explain how my whole life has prepared me for this moment. I am used to girls screaming, and your screams – will be sweeter than another's cries of love.

One fine day, in the middle of the night, two dead boys got up to fight. Back to back they faced each other. They pulled out their swords and shot one another. One deaf cop, on the beat heard the noise, and came and shot the two dead boys.

I like him, he thought in horror... shit. I like him.

We have lived in our armor for so long, you and I. And now I am not sure if either of us knows how to removes it.

Love changes us, but we change how we love too.

It's disturbing to see him like this, behaving as though he might have emotions.

Every plan is a house of cards.

He looks like the good boy he's never been.

In the mortal world, when I thought you were my enemy, I still missed you.

Don't be drinking the Haterade.

Kiss me until I am sick of it.

Cardan gazes at a rosebush with petals so black and glossy they look like patent leather. ¨It was terrifying,¨ he says, ¨watching you fall. I mean, you´re generally terrifying, but I am unused to fearing for you. And then I was furious. I am not sure I have ever been that angry before.¨ ¨Mortals are fragile,¨ I say. ¨Not you,¨ he says in a way that sounds a little like a lament. ¨You never break.¨ Page 159

We all want stupid things. That doesn't mean we should have them.

Stories can justify anything. It doesn't matter if the boy with the heart of stone is a hero or a villain; it doesn't matter if he got what he deserved or if he didn't. No one can reward him or punish him, save the storyteller.

She took a deep breath, "Last chance. Are you in need of rescuing?" His expression turned very strange, almost as if she'd struck him, "Yes," he said finally.

Faerie might be beautiful, but its beauty is like a golden stag's carcass, crawling with maggots beneath his hide, ready to burst.