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The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. —William Shakespeare, Henry VIII
We steal human words with gleeful abandon, but we don’t like to use their names for things when we have any other choice in the matter. We’re sort of like the French that way.
Growing up doesn’t mean getting over everything that happened to us as children. It just means calcifying it and never letting go.
I’m going to go bake some cookies.” “That’s your answer to everything.” “Better than your answer to everything.” She made an exaggerated stabbing gesture.
I’ve learned not to be too attached to plans. They never survive contact with reality when I’m around.
Of the two of us, he’s the one who actually speaks “diplomacy” with something other than a knife.
Leaving the house without making sure I’m equipped for a knife fight is a good way to guarantee I wind up in a knife fight because the universe likes nothing more than making me regret my choices.
If I ever find a therapist who works with changelings, I’m going to send Mom the bill.
“I’m a cat,” he said. “Being unforgiving is a part of my job description.” “Well, then, Mr. Cat, I hope you’re not too dedicated to your work.” I reclaimed my hand. “I like it when you forgive me.”
“Don’t we need to wait for the check?” “We’re not getting paid for dining here.” “I meant—you have enough interaction with the human world to know what I meant, you dork. Don’t we need to pay for dinner?” Tybalt looked at me like I’d never said anything more foolish in my entire life, something we both knew wasn’t the case. “We granted my subject the honor of feeding us,” he said. “Why would we need to compensate him further?” “Silly me,” I said,
“Is ‘talk’ mermaid for ‘threaten’?” asked May.
It doesn’t always come when called, but neither do I. If we’re going to measure intelligence based on obedience, we’re all going to be very disappointed.
“Trust the lady, kitty. You’re about to be stuck with her forever, and she’s a lot more stabby than you are.”
“I trust her to be wild and impulsive and bold and self-destructive when it means someone else might be saved. I trust her to be the month she was named for, cold and kind by turns, endlessly storming, so that nothing can stand in her path but risk being blown away. I trust her to be October, and what I’ve learned, what’s done nothing to stop my heart being given to her care, is that to be October is to be constantly in the path of destruction and not always to have the sense to step aside. I’m uncomfortable not because I don’t trust her, but because I trust her too well.”
Sometimes family means being willing to be the one who buries the hatchet and takes the first step. Sometimes family means they’ve already buried the hatchet, in your back.
Because we’re more than the substance of our scars, and I loved you before you hurt me. Because I know you’ve been lashing out, and people who are in pain aren’t always careful about where they throw their punches. Because you loved me, too, before the world made you feel like you had to hate me.”
Of course I was hurt. I just took a teenage Daoine Sidhe to the sternum.
“Quentin! Do you have your short sword with you?” “You came to get me while I was on a date. Do you normally bring weapons on your dates?” “I bring weapons everywhere. Tybalt wouldn’t know what to do with me if I didn’t.” Quentin made a soft scoffing noise that I could only interpret as “adults are weird.”
“You’re pretty free with the backtalk for someone who’s literally gutless right now,” I said, approaching the opening. “Sometimes guts are in the soul,” she replied piously.
Sometimes being where you want to be is the most important thing of all.
But that’s what we’re all doing every day, isn’t it? We carry ourselves forward through time, with no possible way of knowing what’s on the other end. We have to keep going, because standing still isn’t an option. It never has been.
We miss so much of the world around us. No matter how much attention we think we’re paying. We miss so, so much.
the sea came first and the sea will come last and everything in the middle is only a story sung by children who have achieved temporary mastery of the air.
Camelot never endures. No matter how shining the castle on the hill seems, it’s still capable of falling. Falling is what every shining city seems designed and destined to do.
That seems to be the real reason purebloods are so obsessed with keeping secrets: they treat them like weapons, assembling their armories one blade and bludgeon at a time, only to deploy them when they can do the most damage.
Your love for him flavors everything you are.
“This is assault,” he said mildly, unbuckling his seatbelt and allowing himself to be tugged free. “I’ll have you know that this is behavior entirely unsuitable for a lady.” “Good thing I’m a knight, not a lady,” I said,
Love can’t always save you, but love should always try to guide you home.”
Dean still looked uncomfortable, but I suppose “hey, kiddo we want to open our marriage and include the man who just turned you into a tree” was a little awkward for everyone.
It’s easier to forgive when you’re hoping to be forgiven. We care about each other. So we apologize, and we try, even when it’s not the most convenient thing that we could do.
This is yours,” she said. “You planted it and nurtured it, and now it’s come to harvest.
“As the one with a right to claim offense against the man, I think the punishment he deserves is my mother.”
I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold. —William Shakespeare, Titus Andronicus
Simon, with his eyes all full of her reflected light, never saw how her brightness forced him to remain dimmer,
I had found my peace with it, even a flavor of contentment.
still scintillating and irreverent as the night is long, still one of the sweetest and dearest stars in my sky.
“A lie is still a lie when it’s dressed in lace and presented for the ball.
“Never fall in love. Men will only break your heart, and women will only desert you. The sea is changeable, and so are anyone’s affections.”
That might be a flimsy hook to hang a heart upon, but I’ve seen stronger fish that I caught on far less when the bait was right.
How we can have eternity on our sides and still have less patience than is innate to mortal children?
Love is a lie. There are only varying stages of indenture holding people in their places.
