Madness > Madness's Quotes

“I missed you," I whisper against his skin and feel dizzy with the intimacy of the admission, feel more naked than when he could see every inch of me. "In the mortal world, when I thought you were my enemy, I still missed you."
"My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned.”
― Holly Black, The Queen of Nothing

“It’s you I love,” he says. “I spent much of my life guarding my heart. I guarded it so well that I could behave as though I didn’t have one at all. Even now, it is a shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous thing. But it is yours.” He walks to the door to the royal chambers, as though to end the conversation. “You probably guessed as much,” he says. “But just in case you didn’t.”
― Holly Black, The Queen of Nothing

“Come home and shout at me. Come home and fight with me. Come home and break my heart, if you must.”
― Holly Black, The Queen of Nothing

“Mock me all you like. Whatever I imagined then, now it is I who would beg and grovel for a kind word from your lips." His eyes are black with desire. "By you, I am forever undone.”
― Holly Black, The Queen of Nothing

“You're asking me to define an abstract concept that no one has managed to explain since time began. You sort of sprang it on me," Gansey said. "Why do we breathe air? Because we love air? Because we don't want to suffocate. Why do we eat? Because we don't want to starve. How do I know I love her? Because I can sleep after I talk to her. Why?”
― Maggie Stiefvater, The Raven King

“Don't tell the others," Gansey said.

"I'm dead," Noah replied, "not stupid.”
― Maggie Stiefvater, Blue Lily, Lily Blue

“As they moved through the old barn, Adam felt Ronan’s eyes glance off him and away, his disinterest practiced but incomplete. Adam wondered if anyone else noticed. Part of him wished they did and immediately felt bad, because it was vanity, really:

See, Adam Parrish is wantable, worthy of a crush, not just by anyone, someone like Ronan, who could want Gansey or anyone else and chose Adam for his hungry eyes.”
― Maggie Stiefvater, Blue Lily, Lily Blue

“I feel like a part of my soul has loved you since the beginning of everything.
Maybe we’re from the same star.”
― Emery Allen

“I’m sorry. This is not what I intended to say. What I meant to say is this: You’ll write more poems. They are not lost. You are the poetry.”
― Alice Winn, In Memoriam

“Gaunt was woven into everything he read, saw, wrote, did, dreamt. Every poem had been written about him, every song composed for him, and Ellwood could not scrape his mind clear of him no matter how he tried.”
― Alice Winn, In Memoriam

“He thought perhaps all the pain would sour the love, but instead it drew him further in, as if he were Marc Antony, falling on his own sword. And it was a magical thing, to love someone so much; it was a feeling so strange
and slippery, like a sheath of fabric cut from the sky.”
― Alice Winn, In Memoriam

“Where’s the rest of it?” said Ellwood, his voice rising unpredictably.
“My,” just the word “my” would have been enough to live on, if Gaunt had ever called him that to his face.
“He never called me Sidney. Not once, in five years.” He looked up at Hayes. “What does it mean?”
“I don’t know,” said Hayes. He sat stiff and upright on the bed.
“Why didn’t he finish it?”
“I don’t know,” said Hayes.
“He knew he was going to die.”
“He thought you both would.”
“But he never called me Sidney.”
He never called him any of it. My, dearest, darling. Sidney. Ellwood leant back against the window, his throat stretching long as he looked up.
“If Gaunt had been a girl, I should have married him in an instant,” he said.”
― Alice Winn, In Memoriam

“We swarmed through Africa and America because we were better than they, of course we were, we were making war humane, and now it has broken down and they are dragged into hell with us. We have doomed the world with our advancements, with our democracy that is so much better than whatever they’ve thought of, with our technology that will so improve their lives, and now Algerian men must choke to death on their own melted insides in wet Belgian trenches and I—”
― Alice Winn, In Memoriam