Quotes from Lilith Saintcrow

Chess isn't one of my favorites, it takes a cool calculating hatred to play well, and I'm not good at that.

Poisonsellers and lightfingers chanted in shadowy corners, mostly outcast drow and trow, their dark-adapted eyes luminous. The perfume of sidhe from either Court and the Free Counties as well crept into the blood and breath, a subtle exhilaration. The Enforcers, their black leather masks and long black coats functional instead of decorative, were not often seen—but they were about. The

My working relationship with Lucifer began on a rainy Monday

What you cannot escape, you must fight; what you cannot fight, you must endure

I will do anything for you, just don't go anywhere. Just don't leave. Stand there and smile at me, and I'll do anything you want.

She had done all she could. It didn't feel like enough. Nothing, in fact, ever did.

Yaga de Winter was her own private joke; the old country loved literature a little too well.

A place of literary canon wasn't a guarantee unless you tapped into something deeper, and Jay's longing was drawn from the deepest well of all...

Concrete arteries brought prosperity, like the historical iron horses galloping from coast to coast over the graves of the indigenous, but they were also digestive pathways, and a whole lot of shit ran off them.

Divine boys were just like human ones, and why should that surprise her? The toxic masculinity went all the way to the top. Of-fucking-course it did.

They stared at each other, mobster and girl, Nat trembling with what couldn't be anger, because good girls weren't supposed to feel rage, were they? Society, not to mention the sisters at school, were both very clear on that point indeed, and Mom...

Everyone was nice when they wanted something from you —was it a divinity thing, or just a basic natural fact?

The girl's body dropped into the rhythm of a canter —and what girl doesn't love a horse, doesn't already know how to ride? The knowledge lurks in them, breath and bone, part of an ancient copact between big grazing beasts and the women who patiently tamed them, knowing brutality might work for a short while but true partnership can never be forced.

She climbed, and climbed. The tower vibrated slightly, perhaps because its height made the wind a stroking hand upon its string. Half-heard cries, ragged whispers, soft slithering sounds echoed from the stone walls. The Speaking Tower, it was called, for here Summer could listen to the voices of her subjects, their wishes and fears seeping from rough mauve rock. The outside was white-and-greenstone, but the inside of the Speaking was a pink throat.

The red scarf at her wrist was joined by others, knotted up her arm to the elbow. A dozey, sicksweet fuming of harvest incense followed her steps, rippling in her wake.

Co?my utracili? Nie wszystko przepad?o; niepodbita wola, studium zemsty, nigdy nie umieraj?ca nienawi??..." "I odwaga, która nigdy si? przed niczym nie ugina ani nie poddaje" - doko?czy?.

You learn to have a high weirdness tolerance as a witch. Some luck isn't bad or good, it's just luck, the way the pebble falls or the coin flips, the way the cue ball rides. Luck or gods, it didn't matter.

She reached for the glass, realized it was smudged. More pointless revulsion.

Tristan. The killspell is meant for him. Protect him, just as he would protect you.

First you find out what you have, Dad would say. Then you figure out how to make it work for what you need, 'cause you don't get what you want. You get just what you have and no more.

Better to be strong than pretty and useless.