Quotes About Quote

It was the most stunning protest I could think of, dying to oppose the Synarche, doing a little damage along the way.

Elizabeth had been eternal. Elizabeth was England. Elizabeth was deathly tired.

Maybe she was winning the argument-a prospect that both scared and excited me.

By the way, should you have the opportunity to be kidnapped by radicals, you'd rather fall in with the Right Hand Path than with Maenads, if you get the choice.

I'faith, Kit, is there any man in Elizabeth's court you haven't let bugger you?" "There's a few I've buggered instead." Kit waited for the chuckle. Will did not fail him.

The bruises under her eyes are dark enough for Min-xue to dip his brush in and write poetry.

I had a moment's respect for this wily silce of code.

Hast made the acquaintance of thy friend Edward the Second's ghost yet, pussycat? They tell me he still screams.

The shadow towered, from the snake to a shape with tufted ears laid flat, a lynx.

I am many things: not a single one of them makes me qualified to troubleshoot or debug or antivirus an AI.

She let Carel guide her to a chair, the warm smell of vanilla following the swing of Carel's braids.

The Republican pirate was charismatic in a way that reached right past all the rightminding safe-guards on my emotions and hormones and made me want to know her better and bond and be best friends with her forever.

Or perhaps all that white served to mark him as a virgin sacrifice, which was a thought worth a slightly hysterical giggle.

My sin is love in that I love my sin too well to wish to repent of it.

The builders must never have imagined that the world might find itself not only fragmented, but wishing to lie between modules.

I couldn't tell if the vertigo was fear, or some strange side effect of glitterweb crawling up my arm.

May the enemies you make be interesting ones." "My father used to say that." "Your father"-the smile made itself patent-"was an interesting enemy." "Yes." Tristen rubbed his fingertips in circles against the heels of his hands, making how armour rasp. "I recall.

Dust was an Angel. He was by nature a servant, even if his service often meant something more like mastery.

He did not mock her service, even by implication, even when he did not condone the means by which she served.

It's about your sister, Chief Engineer." "Of course it is," Caitlin said, rubbing her eyes until she felt the muscles stretch. "Which one, I'm terrified to ask?

Mr Darcy is my severest critic.

The staring sailorthat shakes his watchthat tells the timeof the poet, the manthat lies in the house of Bedlam.

You think I exaggerate." "At the moment—" "Well, this sort of moment never really stops . . .

Hollindrake once wrote to me that the men who fight for a cause, a noble one, have more honor than any mere gentleman. – Felicity Langley (heroine)