“I’m a cat. We aren’t required to make sense.”
“That's the nice thing about insanity: evil people kill you, but crazy ones try to make you understand.”
“You are truly endearing when you sleep. I attribute this to the exotic nature of seeing you in a state of silence.
—Tybalt”
“The laws of physics have already been violated. What happens if they decide to press charges?”
“October—
You were sleeping so peacefully that I was loath to wake you. Duke Torquill, after demanding to know what I was doing in your apartment, has requested that I inform you of his intent to visit after ‘tending to some business at the Queen’s Court.’ I recommend wearing something clinging, as that may distract him from whatever he wishes to lecture you about this time. Hopefully, it’s your manners.
You are truly endearing when you sleep. I attribute this to the exotic nature of seeing you in a state of silence.
—Tybalt
”
“Hey!" I turned, crossing my arms and glaring. "I was talking to him!"
Tybalt eyed me with amusement, which just made me glare harder. "No, you were inciting him to stab you with a toothpick. Again, the difference is small, but I think it matters.”
“Call me paranoid. I'm frequently right.”
“I've seen that mixture of resignation and hopelessness before; its usually in my mirror.”
“Repetition is sometimes the best way to deal with the Luidaeg: just keep saying the same thing over and over until she gets fed up and gives you what you want. All preschoolers have an instinctive grasp of this concept, but most don’t practice it on immortal water demons. That’s probably why there are so few disembowelments in your average preschool.”
“Jan built herself an ivory tower to keep the wolves out; she never dreamed they were already inside.”
“Whoever was responsible for naming the fae races should really have put more thought into making them pronounceable when drunk.”
“Dramatic exits are the last refuge of the infantile personality”
“I’ve always thought of joggers as being sort of like Blind Michael and his crew: deserving of respect, but slightly psychotic. Who in their right minds would want to get out of bed and run around in their underwear before noon?”
“I’m a cat. We aren’t required to make sense.” No”
“If you don’t mind, I need to fall down until my head stops hurting.” “Of”
“not fair,” Quentin said. “She’s the one insulting us, and she gets to walk away?” “Dramatic exits are the last refuge of the infantile personality,” I said. “Now drink your soda and help me think of nasty names to call her next time she shows up.”
“My headache was worse than ever. I groaned, raising my right hand to my temple, and the last of the comfortable darkness dissolved, leaving me inarguably awake. Damn. “Toby?”
“not fair,” Quentin said. “She’s the one insulting us, and she gets to walk away?” “Dramatic exits are the last refuge of the infantile personality,” I said.”
“I’m an idiot. All I could do was hope that I wasn’t already too late. Sometimes hope is the cruelest joke of all.”
“Good question,” I said, more slowly. “When does she get in?” “What?” Alex blinked. “Your sister?” I said. He was a lot less attractive when he looked that confused. “When does she come on shift?”
“I always thought you’d live underground somewhere, near the earth’s core,”
“Why me, then?” I ask. “Why not Branley? She’s way hotter and was just as drunk as I was.”
Alex shakes her head as she sits back down. “Physical attractiveness has nothing to do with it. You were alone, isolated, and weak. The three of them had been watching girls all night, waiting for someone to separate from a group. It happened to be you, but it could’ve been anyone else. Opportunity is what matters, nothing else. […] I’m telling you, Claire. It doesn’t matter. What you were wearing. What you look like. Nothing. Watch the nature channel. Predators go for the easy prey.”
“... some wounds refuse the remedy of time.”
“As our options expand, so do our desires - and unmet desires in particular.”
“And the man clad in black and silver with a silver rose upon him? He would like to think that he has learned something of trust, that he has washed his eyes in some clear spring, that he has polished an ideal or two. Never Mind. He may still be only a smart-mouthed meddler, skilled mainly in the minor art of survival, blind as ever the dungeons knew him to the finer shades of irony. Never mind, let it go, let it be. I may never be pleased with him.”
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