Libraries were full of ideas—perhaps the most dangerous and powerful of all weapons.
To the stars who listen— and the dreams that are answered.
No. I can survive well enough on my own— if given the proper reading material.
We all bear scars,... Mine just happen to be more visible than most.
He thinks he'll be remembered as the villain in the story. But I forgot to tell him that the villain is usually the person who locks up the maiden and throws away the key. He was the one who let me out.
She was the heir of ash and fire, and she would bow to no one.
My name is Celaena Sardothien. But it makes no difference if my name's Celaena or Lillian or Bitch, because I'd still beat you, no matter what you call me.
You cannot pick and choose what parts of her to love.
I fell in love with you, smartass, because you were one of us—because you weren’t afraid of me, and you decided to end your spectacular victory by throwing that piece of bone at Amarantha like a javelin. I felt Cassian’s spirit beside me in that moment, and could have sworn I heard him say, ‘If you don’t marry her, you stupid prick, I will.
And I wondered if love was too weak a word for what he felt, what he’d done for me. For what I felt for him.
I love you,’ he whispered, and kissed my brow. ‘Thorns and all.
The Court of Dreams. The people who knew that there was a price, and one worth paying, for that dream. The bastard- born warriors, the Illyrian half breed, the monster trapped in a beautiful body, the dreamer born into a court of nightmares...And the huntress with an artist's soul.
I threw myself into that fire, threw myself into it, into him, and let myself burn.
I'm not married,” he said softly, “because I can't stomach the idea of marrying a woman inferior to me in mind and spirit. It would mean the death of my soul.
So I’m your huntress and thief?” His hands slid down to cup the backs of my knees as he said with a roguish grin, “You are my salvation, Feyre.
Where is Aelin. Where is my wife?
He looked at his friend, perhaps for the last time, and said what he had always known, from the moment they’d met, when he’d understood that the prince was his brother in soul. “I love you.
I found him carefully studying me, his lips in a thin line. “Has anyone ever taken care of you?” he asked quietly. “No.” I’d long since stopped feeling sorry for myself about it.
Say it,” I gritted out. “The High Lord of the Night Court is your mate.
He gripped her hard, forcing her to meet his eyes as he snarled, “I see you. I see every part of you. And I am not afraid.” I will not be afraid. A line in the burning brightness. My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius . . . And I will not be afraid.