iris > iris's Quotes

“A dragon without its rider is a tragedy.
A rider without their dragon is dead.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You still love me. It's possible." Gods, do I ache to kiss her, to remind her exactly what we are together, but I won't, not until she asks. "I'm not afraid of hard work, especially not when I know just how sweet the rewards are. I would rather loose this entire war than live without you, and if that means I have to prove myself over and over, then I'll do it. You gave me your heart, and I'm keeping it." She already owns mine, even if she doesn't realize it.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Should I get the Wingleader?”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Violet Sorrengail,' she whispers, moving closer. 'Are you wearing Riorson's flight jacket?'

Liam's head snaps in my direction, curse his stupidly good hearing.

'Why would you say that?' I do a shitty job of feigning shock and shove the sheaths into every available pocket in this thing. All three of them, which are considerably deeper than the ones in my own jacket.

'Oh, I don't know. Because it's huge on you and there are three stars right here?' She taps where there's only one star on her uniform.

Well, shit. Just goes to show that neither of us was thinking clearly.

'It could be any third-year's.' I shrug.

'With a Fourth Wing shield on the shoulder?' She cocks an eyebrow.

'That does limit it a bit,' I agree.

'And a wingleader emblem beneath those stars?' she teases.

'Fine, it's his.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Stop. Fucking. Coddling. Her.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You take a step toward this Sorrengail and you'll be dead before you can even shift your weight,' Xaden says, his voice dropping lethally. 'She's not up for discussion.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I can’t help it. I smile. This brilliant fucking woman is mine.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Let's go, Violet Sorrengail.' He lifts his head, and the golden dragon peeks out from under his wing.

'How do you know my name?' I gawk up at him.

'And to think, I'd almost forgotten just how loquacious humans are.' He sighs, the gust of his breath rattling the trees. 'Get on my back.'

Oh. Shit. He's choosing... me.

'Get on your back?' I repeat like a fucking parrot. 'Have you seen you? Do you have any idea how huge you are?' I'd need a damned ladder to get up there.

The look he gives me can only be described as annoyance. 'One does not live a century without being well aware of the space one takes up. Now get on.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing