Cinda Williams Chima · 517 pages
Rating: (36.3K votes)
“She had never felt more alive than when she lay dying in Han Alister's arms.”
“The time will come when you will be forced to make a choice,” Hanalea said. “When that time comes, choose love.”
“I have lost everything, Han thought. Then he corrected himself. Every time I think I’ve lost everything, I find there’s still something else to lose.”
“Tears stung her eyes. She sank her knees next to the sleeping bench and gently raked strands of golden hair from him forehead.
"Don't you die. don't you dare. I forbid it." As if Han Alister had ever listened to anything she said.”
“A moment later, Cat hurtled back into the room as if chased by demons. She stationed herself in front of Raisa, a knife in either hand, all of her genteel patina swept away. "Cuffs! Look sharp! It's him, the whey-faced, gutter-swiving, prig-napping bastard! He's here!"
Han looked as mystified as Raisa. "Who's here?”
“Will you give the girl to me?" she said. "Will you let me try?"
He nodded, dizzy with relief. "Please, Willo. Please. Save her. It doesn't matter...what happens to me.”
“There's something about a roof isn't there? It makes you feel like it doesn't matter what's going on below. All of those things that get in the way of your dreams - you're above them. Anything is possible.”
“The answer is no, I would rather marry the Demon King himself than marry you. I
suggest you look elsewhere for a bride. And heaven help the one you choose.”
“I continue
to believe in miracles. But i know that miracles come to those
who work very hard”
“The bluejacket girlie rode like a clan warrior, but there was no way she'd escape. It was a private life-and-death contest that had nothing to do with him.
He told himself he should ride on, grateful that the chase would keep them occupied while he took a different path.
But what had he told Rebecca when she'd asked what he meant to do when he returned to the Fells?
'I'm tired of people in power picking on the weak. I'm going to help them.”
“If he even survives." She shivered, and Amon put his arm around her, drawing her into his steady warmth.
"It's that bad?"
Raisa nodded. "He looked...he looked awful, Amon. Willo doesn't know if he'll...She's worried about him. My mother died, and I never got to tell her that I loved her, that I finally understood - just a little anyway. If Han dies too, I don't know what I'll do.”
“Both Averill and Bayar were like actors speaking lines for their audience and not to each other.”
“Do not
forget duty. But choose love when you can.”
“Maybe the hardest lesson Han had learned was that nobody is purely bad or good. Everybody seemed to be a mixture of both.”
“As for my family, my father was Danel; he died as a mercenary in the southern wars," Han went on. "My mother's name was Sarah, called Sali, and my sister was Mari. They died last summer. But then, you already knew that. Every time you forget, I'll remind you. That's the blood sacrifice I made to be here, and that's enough.”
“ It was a peculiar marriage of interests- Lord Averill and Captain Byrne and Lord Bayar and Han Alister agreeing on anything was as rare as gold in Ragmarket.”
“She's tough for a blueblood, he'd thought, a lifetime ago. Maybe tough enough to be with him. He hadn't considered that he might not be tough enough to be with her.”
“He keeps this up, he's bound to be caught, she thought. And this time they'll dangle him for certain.”
“Either he's lying, which is bad. Or he could be telling the truth, which is worse”
“Crow shrugged. "What is death? The loss of a body? The loss of the animating spark? If that's the case, I am dead.
"Or is life the persistence of memory and emotion, volition and desire?" Crow went on, as if in a debate with himself. "If that's the case, I am very much alive.”
“None of us are free to follow our hearts,"she said. "Not really. Is that what you're saying?"
He shook his head. "No one can stop you from loving someone," he said.”
“Can you imagine it, Alister? Can you imagine what it was like for a shade like me to experience the world again through all of your senses- vision and touch, and smell and taste and hearing?"
"I wouldn't have gone to the library, I'll tell you that," Han said.
Crow laughed. "I like you, Alister. All of this would have been easier if you were unlikable. And stupid. You would have been considerably more tractable.”
“She could hear the rattle of hooves on stone evolve into a thunder of pursuit.”
“Maybe the hardest lesson Han had learned was that nobody is purely bad or good. Everybody seemed to be a mixure of both.”
“And then Micah Bayar swept back his cloak and dropped to his knees, bowing his head, his amulet swinging forward. Fiona glared down at him like she wanted to stomp on him.
Ho, Han thought. Micah breaks with his family? That's interesting.”
“Every time I think I’ve lost everything, I find there’s still something else to lose.”
“Tal vez la lección más dura que Han había aprendido era que nadie es totalmente bueno o malo. Todo el mundo es una mezcla de ambas cosas.”
“Han struggled to remember Master Leontus's lectures on healing, the recitations he'd drowsed through. I'll never have need of that, Han had thought. I'm being trained to kill people, not heal them. He'd thought everyone he'd ever want to heal was already dead.
He'd been wrong.”
“Believe me, there is no one more dangerous than one whose hopes have turned to despair.”
“There was a cliff,snow, and I'm pretty sure Benadryl was involved."" Always is." Jake shook his head.”
“A woman owes it to herself to have pretty things. And if she feels good she looks good.
You are wrong if you think you cannot live without love.
I cannot live without it. I do not mean that I go into a decline, develop odd symptons, became a caricature. I mean that I cannot live well without it. I cannot think or act or speak or write or even dream with any kind of energy in the absence of love. I feel excluded from the living world. I become cold, fish-like, immobile. I implode. My idea of absolute happiness is to sit in a hot garden all day, reading or writing, utterly safe in the knowledge that the person I love will come home to me in the evening. Every evening. I am not a romantic. I am a domesticated animal. I do not sigh and yearn for extravagant displays of passion, for the grand affair, the world well lost for love. I know all that, and know that it leaves you lonely. No, what I crave is the simplicity of routine. An evening walk, arm in arm, in fine weather. A game of cards. Time for idle talk. Preparing a meal together.”
“Better not to have anything. Not even love. If you got attached to something, it only got taken away. Child or adult. Toys or people. No difference”
“His hair, at first glance, appears merely dark, but upon closer inspection is actually many strands of chestnut brown, gold, and black. He wears it long, for a guy, not because doing
so is “in,” but because he’s too busy with his many interests to remember to get it cut regularly. His eyes seem dark at first glance, as well, but are actually a kaleidoscope of
russets and mahoganies, flecked here and there with ruby and gold, like twin lakes during an Indian summer, into which you feel as if you could dive and swim forever. Nose: aquiline. Mouth: imminently kissable. Neck: aromatic—an intoxicating blend of Tide from his shirt collar, Gillette shaving foam, and Ivory soap, which together spell: my
boyfriend.
B–
Better. I would have liked more description on what exactly about his mouth you find so imminently kissable.
—C. Martinez”
“Over the years, she'd learned not to question him too closely—mostly because he wouldn't answer her.”
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