Quotes from Fate

Amanda Hocking ·  334 pages

Rating: (19.9K votes)


“I started zipping up my pants when something occurred to me.
"I'm wearing a purple thong."
"You're wearing a purple thong?"
Jack raised an eyebrow, but since I was drunk, I couldn't read on his emotions. I didn't know if it was an intrigued I'd-like-to-see-more eyebrow, or a disapproving you're-a-huge-slut eyebrow.
"Yeah. Wanna see?”
― Amanda Hocking, quote from Fate


“An oblique angle,” Jack said, and his bout of jealousy was quickly replaced with glee. “Ha! I told you I would work that in!”
― Amanda Hocking, quote from Fate


“The only consent hinge in life is that everyhin is changing. And that's a little scary, but it means that hints can't be bad or hard forever.”
― Amanda Hocking, quote from Fate


“You're not very good at being contemplative," Milo said. "You always sound like some bad caricature of a philosopher, like those fortune cookies with 'Confucius say' or the Nietzsche guy from Mystery Men that's always saying 'when you walk on the ground, the ground walks on you.”
― Amanda Hocking, quote from Fate


“The only constant in life is that everything is always changing.”
― Amanda Hocking, quote from Fate



“Oh, Alice, I’m afraid you’ve really fallen into a rabbit hole this time,”
― Amanda Hocking, quote from Fate


About the author

Amanda Hocking
Born place: in Austin, Minnesota, The United States
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Popular quotes

“Ranna," she said aloud, touching the first, the smallest bell. Ranna the sleepbringer, the sweet, low sound that brought silence in its wake.

"Mosrael." The second bell, a harsh, rowdy bell. Mosrael was the waker, the bell Sabriel should never use, the bell whose sound was a seesaw, throwing the ringer further into Death, as it brought the listener into Life.
"Kibeth." Kibeth, the walker. A bell of several sounds, a difficult and contrary bell. It could give freedom of movement to one of the Dead, or walk them through the next gate. Many a necromancer had stumbled with Kibeth and walked where they would not.
"Dyrim." A musical bell, of clear and pretty tone. Dyrim was the voice that the Dead so often lost. But Dyrim could also still a tongue that moved too freely.
"Belgaer." Another tricksome bell, that sought to ring of its own accord. Belgaer was the thinking bell, the bell most necromancers scorned to use. It could restore independent thought, memory and all the patterns of a living person. Or, slipping in a careless hand, erase them.
"Saraneth." The deepest, lowest bell. The sound of strength. Saraneth was the binder, the bell that shackled the Dead to the wielder's will. And last, the largest bell, the one Sabriel's cold fingers found colder still, even in the leather case that kept it silent.
"Astarael, the Sorrowful," whispered Sabriel. Astarael was the banisher, the final bell. Properly rung, it cast everyone who heard it far into Death. Everyone, including the ringer.”
― Garth Nix, quote from Sabriel


“It turns out I'm absolutely terrible at staying away from you. It's a very serious problem.”
― Kiera Cass, quote from The Elite


“but I’d hate to want ’em and not have ’em.” “Oh what is it? What is it?” Laura asked, jumping up”
― Laura Ingalls Wilder, quote from Little House in the Big Woods


“I claim you, Aelin. To whatever end.”
― Sarah J. Maas, quote from Heir of Fire


“Some enterprising rabbit had dug its way under the stakes of my garden again. One voracious rabbit could eat a cabbage down to the roots, and from the looks of things, he'd brought friends. I sighed and squatted to repair the damage, packing rocks and earth back into the hole. The loss of Ian was a constant ache; at such moments as this, I missed his horrible dog as well.

I had brought a large collection of cuttings and seeds from River Run, most of which had survived the journey. It was mid-June, still time--barely--to put in a fresh crop of carrots. The small patch of potato vines was all right, so were the peanut bushes; rabbits wouldn't touch those, and didn't care for the aromatic herbs either, except the fennel, which they gobbled like licorice.

I wanted cabbages, though, to preserve a sauerkraut; come winter, we would want food with some taste to it, as well as some vitamin C. I had enough seed left, and could raise a couple of decent crops before the weather turned cold, if I could keep the bloody rabbits off. I drummed my fingers on the handle of my basket, thinking. The Indians scattered clippings of their hair around the edges of the fields, but that was more protection against deer than rabbits.

Jamie was the best repellent, I decided. Nayawenne had told me that the scent of carnivore urine would keep rabbits away--and a man who ate meat was nearly as good as a mountain lion, to say nothing of being more biddable. Yes, that would do; he'd shot a deer only two days ago; it was still hanging. I should brew a fresh bucket of spruce beer to go with the roast venison, though . . . (Page 844)”
― Diana Gabaldon, quote from Drums of Autumn


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