Quotes About Revelation

There was, they conceded, no point in pretending to be other than they were, as it seemed their presence was not secret and never had been.

I can see the mouse's tail through thy teeth.

Will's breath smoked in raw air; he was surprised to notice that Murchaud's did not.

I let the darkness and the cold within show in my eyes.

What the Faeries touch cannot be trusted, and they tell naught but lies wrapped in the skin of truth. Wolves in wool coats.

Pussycat. Isn't it time thou didst admit where thou dost belong?

Look down wells and look in the dark wet places. Look in forgetful places, and for forgotten things. Ask those that know the secrets whispered under earth and between stones.

She hadn't understood the plan until she spoke it.

I felt as if I had been navigating a vast space by touch alone, groping in the darkness, and suddenly I could see.

I wanted to finish my investigation, when I was so close to answers that I could taste them.

He knows who this was, when he was something other than a tall, pretty young whore.

People had secrets. You lived with it or you didn't.

The full story was not for strangers in bars.

Everything this woman says surprises me.

You've got a key inside you, and you don't even know it.

Kit woke curled tight in layers of his cloak, the French seams he'd stitched flat still prickling his skin, a name on his lips, Mehiel.

Niyara left you information you didn't know you had, and that's one reason we wanted you. But that's not the most important one.

Kit woke in absolute blackness, with a ringing head, and tried to remember how he had gotten there and why he was lying on a dank, lumpy surface with the taste of earth on his lips.

The gleam in her eyes tells it all.

Sooner or later, in Jack's experience, a wampyr found out everything.

A shape was only a mask, to be discarded upon an instant.

Someone unraveled from the shadows under a gorse shrub, uncoiling taller than anything had a right to from such a small hiding place. The woman swayed like a cobra, standing clad only in a deluge of golden bracelets and necklaces and a bright patterned sarong that stood out like blood on black marble against her skin. Rubies glittered in her ears, her nose, her navel. Rows of tiny beadlike scars shiny as drops of sweat covered her breasts, her arms, her forehead.

Michelangelo Osiris Leary Kusanagi-Jones, Liar, was going to have to tell someone the truth.

Because I don't trust myself to make those decisions was not the sort of vulnerability you revealed to an enemy.