Quotes from Richelle Mead

We all have moments of weakness. It's how we recover from them that really counts.

Spirituality without boundaries. All voices heard. Reverence for the natural world. We don't need to attend lavish services paid for with prayer fees and massive tithes . . . while beggars and others starve outside the cathedrals. It's not fair for one group to have so much wealth and another so little.

No one is beyond being loved.

Because sometimes, a person can get so caught up in the details that they miss the whole.

I don't believe that," I told her. "I know what love is, Mom. I've had love that burns in every fiber of my being, that drives me to be a better person and empowers me through each moment of the day. If you'd ever had something like that, you'd hold on to it with every bit of strength you had.

Keeping love buried was a lot like keeping anger pent up, I'd learned.

Rose blanched but complied, earning laughter in return from Dimitri. "Rose Hathaway, notorious rebel, showing her maternal side.

Besides, there are lots of ways to keep busy in the meantime." That brought her smile back, and my heart lightened. "I'm guessing whatever 'ways' you have in mind aren't Jill-appropriate either." "Put your books away, and I'll show you.

You can't force love, I realized. It's there or it isn't.

Sometimes I felt as though those eyes could see right into my soul.

A year. We'd known each other only a year, but we'd lived a lifetime in it.

And you're here too? I'm so sorry you had to get dragged into this mess. I know you didn't ask for any of this trouble." "It doesn't matter," said Adrian, smiling. He rested a hand on my shoulder. "Some things are worth the trouble.

My God, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them?" That uncomfortable feeling was spreading over me again. "What about them?" "The color," he breathed. "When you stand in the light. They're amazing . . . like molten gold. I could paint those . . ." He reached toward me but then pulled back. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful.

she looked like a porcelain doll. A very pissed off and evil porcelain doll.

I certainly like your mouth." --Cedric

love is..." a falme in the dark. a breath of warmth on a winter's night.a star that guides you home.

You've crossed into Death, into the other side, and returned. Do you think something like that doesn't leave a mark on the soul?

You aren't afraid of throwing yourself in the path of danger, but you're terrified of letting anyone in.

They talk. You act.

Jealousy makes people do and say stupid things.

Because he likes you, Melbourne. That's what guys do. They buy dinner and gifts, hoping that in return you'll—um, like them back.

Why was everyone suddenly challenging something that I'd held as absolute truth my entire life?

We didn't live in a normal world, of course, but in this kiss, it was easy to imagine we did.

It is the imperfection that makes love perfect.