The Priory of the Orange Tree (The Roots of Chaos, #1)

by Samantha Shannon

Then she stitched her gaze to the horizon.

a sword does not need to be whetted at all hours to keep it sharp.”

In the story, she had no name, like too many women in stories of old.

No woman should be made to fear that she was not enough.

“Childing is not always easy. It seems to me that this is the best-kept secret in all the world. We speak of it as though there were nothing sweeter, but the truth is more complex. No one talks openly about the difficulties. The discomfort. The uncertainty. So now you feel the weight of your condition, you believe yourself alone in it. And you have turned the blame upon yourself.”

“Be silent and learn something.”

The sea had turned itself to glass, so the heavens might finally look upon themselves.

“Do not follow stupid birds into dark places again.”

“All of us have shadows in us,” he said. “I accept yours.” He placed a hand over her ring. “And I hope you will also accept mine.” With a tired smile, she threaded her fingers between his. “Gladly.”

“When history fails to shed light on the truth, myth creates its own.”

“Barren.” A thin smile. “We must think of a different word for it, I think. That one makes me sound like a field stripped of its crop. A waste with nothing left to give.” She was right. It was a cruel way to describe a person.

There is courage, I think, in open-mindedness, and thinking for oneself.

The silence went on. And on. And on.

The way he gazed at her, she might have been a sunrise after years of night.

I misliked her rather pitiless species of piety.”

“Margret,” he said, “you are my child. I forgave you all your sins on the first day of your life.”

the sun was bright and heatless,

“You can find beauty anywhere.”

The sky beyond was pale as bone ash.

Do not spend your salt.”

enwheeled

inch-meal

Who in the world wears white on their wedding day?”

“How many times have we damned each other now?” “Not nearly enough.”

betwixt and between

It had been a year of hard realities.

but his eyes were dungeons. Once he had you in his gaze, you were his until he let it go.

the true alchemy was the work, not its completion.

It happened so quickly. One moment, all was silent, save the rain. Then, madness.

I looked into the Abyss, and I almost let myself fall.”

“I will teach my heart to beat again.”

All I wanted for him was happiness. You were that happiness,

I do not think it well that the future of any country rests on the begetting of children.