Late Eclipses

Etienne gave me lessons. Three of them. Then he said I was a menace and refused to teach me anything more for fear that I’d slice his head off.

What's the point of holding on if I can't save the ones that I can't afford to lose?

In the end there's never a sanctuary. You run until there's nowhere left to run to, and then you fight, and then you die, and then it's over. That's how the world works, and if there's any way to change that, I hope someone's eventually planning to let me know.

As often as men slam me into things, you’d think I’d get laid more.

Better cranky and alive than cheerful and dead.

I'm sorry to go, but its alright. Rivers dry up; tides ebb; the sea goes on.

We are handed the balance of our blood and the shape of our lives and told to do something with them.

Faerie may not always have been the kindest place to live, but it was still my home. I owed it to Gillian, To May, to Dare, and Tybalt and January, and all the others not to say that my life had been a mistake. Not when it had been so intertwined with theirs.

You can live your life in "should" and never change anything. What's done is done. We buried our dead. I went home. Manuel went to Shadowed Hills to hate me in peace.

Toby, please stop punching Etienne in the head. It's not helping.

In the interests of friendship, I hope you’ll forgive me what I’m about to do.” “Forgive you wha—” My sentence was cut off as he clamped his mouth over mine, kissing me deeply. ... “Ready to make a scene?” He raised an eyebrow. “Do I have a choice?” “Not really. To quote something someone said to me recently, in the interests of friendship, I hope you’ll forgive what I’m about to do.” I drew back my hand and slapped him across the face. The smack of flesh striking flesh echoed through the hall. Conversations stopped as people whipped around to stare at us. Raising my voice to something just below a shout, I snarled, “You asshole!

She said she'd been in relationships with way bigger problems than one of us being a transitory manifestation of impending doom. Like this one girl who liked her computer more than she liked her girlfriend, and another one who smoked.

Raysel, you told me yourself that your father wasn't my liege anymore. I don't have to obey his wishes, spoken or unspoken, and so I can finally say this: go drown yourself, you self-righteous little bitch.

There's no more damage to be done," she said, in a faint, almost thoughtful voice. "No more damage, no salvation. One more of Faerie's glorious monsters lost." "If you'd left us alone--" I began. "You'd have sent some hero after me, given time enough. I killed, I die. At least I killed like a monster kills, instead of with iron, and dying by inches. That's Titania's way, the Queen who stands in the darkness and screams about her light.

She did the best with what she had, and that's all any of us can do. We're handed the balance of our blood and the shape of our lives and told to do something with them.

Did I ever tell you what came between your mother's heart and mine?" "I don't think this is the time--" "Your friend would disagree," she said, almost playfully, her attention darting to Tybalt. Focusing in me again, she said, "He all but burns with what he doesn't say to you, and my time is mine to spend.

Poison doesn't break Oberon's law unless somebody dies. There are circles where putting your enemies to sleep for a thousand years is perfectly normal.

if people wanted to talk to me from a million miles away, that was their problem, not mine.

Where do they come from?" In those days, her every word was gospel truth, and I would have asked anything to keep her talking to me. "Tears. The first time Oberon left Maeve for her pretty sister, she didn't understand, and she nearly died of sorrow.

It smells like mulberries." "Sometimes it smells like bananas or artichokes.

You can live your life in "should" and never change anything.

I’m just concerned.” “Don’t be. It’s not like my chronic migraine is going to kill us.” “Right.” She