A Conjuring of Light (Shades of Magic, #3)

by V.E. Schwab

“My name is Lila Bard,” she answered, drawing her favorite knife, “and I don’t give a damn.”

This scene made me smile wide! :)

“It doesn’t matter what someone is. Only what they think they are.

“Because the shadows can’t touch me, and the fallen won’t. Because I’m good with magic, and better with a blade, and I’ve got more power in my blood than you’ve got in this whole damned palace. Because I’ve no qualms about killing, and on top of it all, I’ve got a knack for keeping your sons—both of them—alive.

Calla, who had drawn the i’s of Lila’s name into e’s, and always sounded on the verge of

Funny, I always read her name as an E not I.

Because caring was a thing with claws. It sank them in, and didn’t let go. Caring hurt more than a knife to the leg, more than a few broken ribs, more than anything that bled or broke and healed again. Caring didn’t break you clean. It was a bone that didn’t set, a cut that wouldn’t close.

They left they body where it fell.

“The past is the past. It doesn’t live in any one thing. It certainly doesn’t live in something that can be given away. If it did, I would have just handed you everything I was, everything I am. But you can’t have that, not even for a look around your market.

We don’t choose what we are, but we choose what we do.