Quotes About Elizabeth Bear

Samarkar wondered at what point in a relationship it was appropriate to threaten to break a suitor's kneecaps if he should prove insufficiently respectful of one's friend. The

Shall I compare thee to a docking ring? Thou art more beautiful and more temperate, though that's not really hard when you're talking about an airlock whose external temperature is measured on the low end of kelvins. On the other hand, I'm not sure I could have been happier with anything or felt more raw, unfettered love than I did for that docking ring, right then. Free and with my afthands on metal, I stretched against the rotational acceleration and sighed

I wound up playing secret agent/detective/tour guide to a sexy robot. If that sounds like the sort of punishment that would be handed out in a particularly surrealist purgatory, congratulations. You're not wrong.

Peter handed me a glass of wine—my own Neon White Red,

I hadn't the wit left to divert Mme. Pontchartrain's determined questioning. Fortunately, I had the wit to realize it, so I pled a cognac headache and fled.

She laid a hand on his shoulder, a motherly gesture that made his skin crawl.

She blinked, and considered and slicked her whiskers against her face in contemplation.

Politeness counts the effort, or so one of my clademothers used to say.

She laughed, a cat's soundless amusement, and nodded thanks.

The dry tone, brittle enough to break an edge and cut yourself on.

Cynric did not make merely human errors. Her mistakes were more on the epic scale, her failings those of demigods.

The man Elizabeth had called her Elf never glanced down. His eyes sparkled in the lanterlight as he rubbed a glove forefinger against his thumb, and visibly came to a decision.

Kit's horse wasn't white at all, Will saw with relief, but a sorrel gelding so red he gleamed like wet blood even by the cold fey light that surrounded them.

Such a wave of distaste that I could feel it through the senso, despite our incompatible neurologies.

Five hundred years of conspiracy had left the Prometheus Club unworried about funding.

He seemed far too small to be the source of the air of wicked malice that surrounded him, but Dust knew better.

Baines's smirk gave the words layers Kit did not care to think about.

Katya turned from under her lapful of flowers and turned so she could lean forward mockingly to kiss the ring her mother wore on the hand not currently occupied by the sack of chickens.

Mingan's disbelief couldn't have been more polite, or more archly evident. Strifbjorn loved him with all his heart.

It was possible to throw a little fold of space-time around yourself like a vampire vanishing into his swirl of cloak.

Is this the side thou'rt choosing, then, sweet poet? After all the kindness of the Fae to thee?" "Kindness?" Kit snorted, not caring that Baines could see this lips. "Is that what thou callest it, my Queen?

He's a Faerie. Do you expect him to play straightforward?" Murchaud looked up. "Where are you going now?" Will smiled. "To strike a bargain with a snake.

He shivered no longer, Mehiel's power warming his shoulders like a feathered cloak.

He slapped her on the vambrace, rough affection but-for their family-an extreme display, and sealed his face plate with the other hand.