Throne of Glass (Throne of Glass, #1)

by Sarah J. Maas

It was true that she had been attractive once, beautiful even, but— well, it didn’t matter now, did it?

How lovely it was to hear a voice like her own—cool and articulate—even if he was a nasty brute!

The only thing all the intended disorientation had accomplished was to familiarize her with the building. Idiots.

She mounted. The sky came closer, and it stretched forever above her, away and away to distant lands she’d never heard of.

He mounted his black stallion, and she considered leaping from her horse and using the chain to hang him from the nearest tree.

And that even if she was free, others were not.

Celaena had once met a young woman from that cursed land, and though she’d turned out to be both cruel and bloodthirsty, she was still just a human. And had still bled like one.

The leaves dangled like jewels—tiny droplets of ruby, pearl, topaz, amethyst, emerald, and garnet; and a carpet of such riches coated the forest floor around them.

Through a clearing in the swirling mass, a cluster of stars could be seen. He couldn’t help thinking that they gazed down at her.

Still, the image haunted his dreams throughout the night: a lovely girl gazing at the stars, and the stars who gazed back.

Libraries were full of ideas—perhaps the most dangerous and powerful of all weapons.

She knew that sword. Nothung was its name.

“If you consider this structure of madness to be a castle,” Nehemia replied. Celaena turned to Chaol. “She says yes.”

“Don’t you ever do anything other than read?” said Chaol.

“We each survive in our own way.”

She was surprised that her hands had not forgotten, that somewhere in her mind, after a year of darkness and slavery, music was still alive and breathing. That somewhere, between the notes, was Sam.

He had come here with the intention of embarrassing a snide assassin, and had instead found a young woman pouring her secrets into a pianoforte.

I’m already at your father’s disposal. I won’t become his son’s jester, too.”

“What’s the point in having a mind if you don’t use it to make judgments?”

“What’s the point in having a heart if you don’t use it to spare others from the harsh judgments of your mind?”

“If you ruin any of my shoes,” she said to the pup, “I’ll turn you into a pair of slippers. Understood?”

“We all bear scars, Dorian. Mine just happen to be more visible than most.

“I name you Elentiya.” She kissed the assassin’s brow. “I give you this name to use with honor, to use when other names grow too heavy. I name you Elentiya, ‘Spirit That Could Not Be Broken.’

“You don’t need me to watch you anymore.” “I didn’t need you to watch me from the start.”

“I have enough secrets. I don’t need another one.”