aarya > aarya's Quotes

“Poison?" I muse. "Were you keeping that around for your future wife?"
"It's not lethal," Elian says. For a killer, he seems oddly offended at the idea. "And no." He pauses, then turns to me with a half smile. "Unless you were my wife."
"If I were your wife, then I'd take it.”
― Alexandra Christo

“You can't win a war. Someone else just loses.”
― Alexandra Christo, To Kill a Kingdom

“How strange that instead of taking his heart, I'm hoping he takes mine.”
― Alexandra Christo, To Kill a Kingdom

“Love and madness are two stars in the same sky. You cannot build a roof to keep out last year’s rain.”
― Alexandra Christo, To Kill a Kingdom

“Then perhaps we should carve a world one day where the strength lies in who you are rather than in what they expect you to be.”
― Rin Chupeco, The Bone Witch

“That is the nature of grief. But to grieve means you have loved. To love opens up the possibility for grief. There cannot be one without the other.”
― Rin Chupeco, The Heart Forger

“There is always something new to discover every day, no matter how skilled you are.”
― Rin Chupeco, The Bone Witch

“People will not forget. Or
forgive. An ugly girl is too great an offense. Trust me, I am old and have
seen much. Why, I’ve seen a dishonest girl who stole a king’s ransom of
jewels be forgiven because of her pretty smile. And a violent girl who
robbed coaches at gunpoint walk out of jail because of her long black
lashes. Why, I even knew a murderous girl who escaped the gallows
because she had full lips and dimples and the judge fell head over heels for
her. But an ugly girl? Ah, child, the world is made for men. An ugly girl can
never be forgiven.”
― Jennifer Donnelly, Stepsister

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar