Sorcery of Thorns

It was always wise to be polite to books, whether or not they could hear you.

Knowledge always has the potential to be dangerous. It is a more powerful weapon than any sword or spell.

You like this place?" "Of course I do. It has books in it.

When terrible things have happened to you, sometimes the promise of something good can be just as frightening.

She now understood that the world wasn’t kind to young women, especially when they behaved in ways men didn’t like, and spoke truths that men weren’t ready to hear.

I love you, too," she said. Nathaniel's brow furrowed. He turned his face to the side and blinks several times. "Thank God," he said finally. "I don't think unrequited love would have suited me. I might have started writing poetry.

God, Elisabeth, I've been doomed since the moment I watched you smack a fiend off my carriage with a crowbar. How could you not tell? Silas has been rolling his eyes at me for weeks.

Books, too, had hearts, though they were not the same as people's, and a book's heart could be broken: she had seen it happen before. Grimoires that refused to open, their voices gone silent, or whose ink faded and bled across the pages like tears.

You belonged in the library, as much as any book.

I knew you talked to books. I didn't realize they listened.

Ink and parchment flowed through her veins. The magic of the Great Libraries lived in her very bones. They were a part of her, and she a part of them.

You unmanageable, contrary creature. You have made me believe in something at last. It feels as wretched as I imagined.

...there is always more than one way to see the world. Those who claim otherwise would have you dwell forever in the dark.

Why are you looking at me like that?" he inquired. "You used a demonic incantation to pack my stockings!" He raised an eyebrow. "You're right, that doesn't sound like something a proper evil sorcerer would do. Next time, I won't fold them.

I'm ruining your reputation, aren't I?" she asked, watching the spectacle unfold. "Don't worry," Nathaniel said. "I've been hard at work trying to ruin my reputation for years. Perhaps after this, influential families will stop trying to catapult their unwed daughters over my garden fence. Which actually did happen once. I had to fend her off with a trowel.

She wasn’t a wielder of chains; she was a breaker of them. She was the library’s will made flesh.

Of course ." A wicked gleam entered his eyes. "But I only turn girls into salamanders on Tuesdays. Luckily for you, it´s a Wednesday, which is the day I drink a goblet of orphan´s blood for supper.

Perhaps I haven't seen what you can do," she said. "But I've seen what you choose to do." She looked up. "Isn't that more important?

Scrivener," he sighed. "I should have known it was you the moment I heard my great-grandmother's priceless antique vase hit the floor." He turned his assessing gaze to the Malefict. "And who's this? A friend of yours?" The Codex bared a mouthful of fangs and produced an ear-splitting shriek. Above them, the chandelier trembled. "Charmed," Nathaniel said. He turned back to Elisabeth. "If the two of you feel the need to destroy anything else, I've been meaning to get rid of Aunt Clothilde's tapestry for years. You'll know it when you see it. It's mauve.

What is the point of life if you don't believe in anything?

I thought you didn't know how to drive a carriage," she shouted over the pounding of hooves. “Nonsense,” Nathaniel shouted back. “I’m a fast learner when properly motivated.

Tempting as the prospect is," Nathaniel said, "we are not attempting world domination. It sounds fun in theory, but in reality it's a logistical nightmare. All those assassinations and so forth." At her blank look, he explained, "Silas used to tell me bedtime stories.

It's an honor to fight by your side, Elisabeth, for however long it lasts. You've reminded me to live. That's worth having something to lose.

The library possessed a life of its own, had become greater than Cornelius had ever intended. For these were not ordinary books the libraries kept. They were knowledge, given life. Wisdom, given voice. They sang when starlight streamed through the library's windows. They felt pain and suffered heartbreak. Sometimes they were sinister, grotesque- but so was the world outside. And that made the world no less worth fighting for, because wherever there was darkness, there was also so much light.

Nathaniel opened one gray eye, startlingly pale against his soot- and blood-covered face. He looked around dubiously, as though he wasn't quite sure whether he wanted to wake up yet, and then slowly opened the other, focusing on Elisabeth's face. "Hello, you menace.

Was that what it meant to lose someone? The pain never went away. It just got... covered up.

Life is like the oil within a lamp. It can be measured, but the pace at which it burns depends on how the dial is turned day by day, how bright and fierce the flame. And there is no predicting whether the lamp might be knocked to the ground and shatter, when it could have blazed on a great while longer. Such is the unpredictability of life.

But you know the truth of magic. The greatest power springs only from suffering.

His severe expression faltered as his hand grazed the cape covering her gown. "Scrivener," he said carefully, "I don't mean to be forward, but is that a—" "A sword hidden underneath my dress? Yes, it is." "I see. And how exactly is it—" "I thought you didn't mean to be forward." She squeezed his arm. "Come on.

Some days, the memories hung over her like a weight. Each was light enough to bear on its own, but combined, they could make it difficult to even walk up the stairs. And yet, she wouldn't trade them away for anything. Their existence made this house, this life, a place she had fought for and won. A place where she belonged.