Six of Crows (Six of Crows, #1)

by Leigh Bardugo

“I’m a businessman,” he’d told her. “No more, no less.” “You’re a thief, Kaz.” “Isn’t that what I just said?”

“When everyone knows you’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.”

Nina crossed her arms. “I’m mad at you, too.” “Me? Why?” “I don’t know yet. I just am.”

Oh Nina, the most relatable character 😂

“I wouldn’t trust you to tie my shoes without stealing the laces, Kaz.”

“Of course he’s new, he looks like he’s about twelve,” retorted Matthias. “I’m sixteen,” said Wylan sullenly.

I feel that Wylan 😔

Kaz leaned back. “What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?” “Knife to the throat?” asked Inej. “Gun to the back?” said Jesper. “Poison in his cup?” suggested Nina. “You’re all horrible,” said Matthias.

The heart is an arrow. It demands aim to land true.

Many boys will bring you flowers. But someday you’ll meet a boy who will learn your favorite flower, your favorite song, your favorite sweet. And even if he is too poor to give you any of them, it won’t matter because he will have taken the time to know you as no one else does. Only that boy earns your heart.

“I protect my investments.” Investments. “I’m glad I’m bleeding all over your shirt.” “I’ll put it on your tab.”

“My ghost won’t associate with your ghost,”

“Would it kill him to smile every once in a while?” Jesper asked. “Very possibly.”

“Nina is everything you say. It’s too much.” “Mmm,” Inej murmured, taking a sip from her mug. “Maybe you’re just not enough.”

Go on and flex, Kaz thought. Doesn’t matter how big the gun is if you don’t know where to point it.

A gambler, a convict, a wayward son, a lost Grisha, a Suli girl who had become a killer, a boy from the Barrel who had become something worse.

“He doesn’t approve of anything about you. But when you laugh, he perks up like a tulip in fresh water.” Nina snorted. “Matthias the tulip.” “The big, brooding, yellow tulip.”

“The life you live, the hate you feel—it’s poison. I can drink it no longer.”

She’d laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and gotten drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him.

“Saints, Kaz, you actually look happy.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped. But there was no mistaking it. Kaz Brekker was grinning like an idiot.

“Every heart sounds different. I never realized that before.”

“I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.”