“If this were a fairy tale, I'd be my own damned knight.”
“Sometimes doing the immoral thing is the moral thing to do. I would lie and cheat and steal to protect the ones I love.”
“Sam, his warrior. He would die before he put her fire out.”
“Sam’s lingering stares agitated him, eliciting a thickness in his chest that felt suspiciously like feelings. Tristan didn’t do feelings.”
“You best have dagger hidden underneath those skirts.”
Sam patted the small lump on the right side of her hip,the bulge on her left,and then felt for a ridge by her ankles.
She had three.”
“Braeden was a noble, self-sacrificing idiot, but he was her idiot.”
“He didn’t have time for an existential crisis, not right now.”
“their long snouts. “There’s no plan?” “Don’t die,” Tristan said, and with a yell, sprinted into the throng of demons.”
“Braeden?” she called again tentatively. Braeden turned to her and smiled, a feral grin that spoke of cruelty to come. Sam swallowed. She was as good as dead.”
“We’ve an early start to the morning, and I’ve a feeling if I stayed with you, we wouldn’t be doing much sleeping,”
“suspiciously like feelings. Tristan didn’t do feelings.”
“I’s afraid of no one, ’cept maybe the Paladins and me mam.”
“She bit into a piece of heavily buttered bread, her eyes fluttering closed as the golden, flaky crust melted in her mouth. Pure heaven. Tristan was staring at her. “What?” she asked. “Your expression . . .” he said, pink tingeing his cheeks. “Never mind. Ah, here’s Braeden.”
“Her answer would kill Braeden quicker than any poison. He shut his eyes, and when he opened them again, his face was a controlled mask. He turned from the curtain, walked down the room past the five rows of beds, and nodded politely at Addie. As soon as he was outside of the infirmary, he ran.”
“I hate everything that moves without legs. It isn't natural, I tell you.”
“If Sam were the sort of girl prone to fainting, she would have fainted right there on the spot. But as things currently stood, she wasn’t supposed to be a girl, so fainting wasn’t even an option.”
“His free hand shot out to steady her. “Are you all right?” he asked. His voice was full of concern, but his dancing blue eyes betrayed his amusement. Her skin heated”
“She lowered her eyes, then peeked at Tristan through her spidery lashes. “Though I would be ’appy to share me own chambers wiv you, love.”
“Durante a rápida estação em que a mulher permanece em flor, os caracteres da sua beleza servem admiravelmente bem à dissimulação à qual a sua fraqueza natural e as leis sociais a condenam. Sob o rico colorido do seu viçoso rosto, sob o fogo dos seus olhos, sob a fina textura das suas feições tão delicadas, com tantas linhas curvas ou retas, mas puras e perfeitamente determinadas, todas as suas comoções podem permanecer secretas: o rubor então nada revela, aumentando ainda mais cores já tão vivas; todos os focos interiores concordam tão bem com a luz desses olhos brilhantes de vida que a fugaz chama de um sofrimento aparece apenas como um encanto a mais. Por isso, na da há mais discreto do que um rosto juvenil, porque também não há nada mais imóvel. A fisionomia de uma jovem tem a serenidade, o polido, o frescor da superfície de um lago; a das mulheres só se revela aos trinta anos. Até essa idade, o pintor só lhes acha no rosto róseos e brancos sorrisos e expressões que repetem um mesmo pensamento, pensamento de mocidade e de amor, pensamento uniforme e sem profundidade; mas, na velhice, tudo na mulher fala, as paixões incrustaram-se-lhe no rosto; foi amante, esposa, mãe; as mais violentas expressões de alegria e de dor acabaram por alterar-lhe, torturar-lhe o rosto, formando aí mil rugas, tendo todas uma linguagem; e uma fronte de mulher torna-se, então, sublime pelo horror, bela pela melancolia, ou magnífica pela serenidade; se se permite desenvolver esta estranha metáfora, o lago seco deixa então ver todos os traços das torrentes que o produzi ram; uma fronte de mulher velha já então não pertence nem ao mundo, que, frívolo, se assusta de ver a destruição de todas as idéias de elegância a que está habituado, nem aos artistas vulgares, que nada descobrem por aí; mas, sim, aos verdadeiros poetas, àqueles que possuem o sentimento de uma beleza independente de todas as convenções sobre as quais repousam tantos preconceitos sobre a arte e a formosura.”
“For you guys out there who think looking doesn’t hurt? You’re wrong. Because we women don’t think you’re just enjoying the view. We think you’re comparing, finding us lacking. And that stings. Like a paper cut on your eyeball.”
“It was true what I'd once said about the stars - some things are seen more clearly in light...and some things are seen more clearly in darkness. Because somewhere in the dark of the night, Calder pulled me close to him and we agreed in ways both spoken and unspoken that the world was ugly and broken, and love was ridiculously dangerous and absurdly unsafe...and that we would love anyway.”
“To his left he saw the other regiments, men from New York, Pennsylvania, Michigan. Men like these, he thought, just farmers and shopkeepers, and now we are soldiers, and now we are about to die.”
“everybody is resting on a set of interpretations, and we need to be honest about it.”
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