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  • #1
    Cassandra Clare
    “One must always be careful of books," said Tessa, "and what is inside them, for words have the power to change us.”
    Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel

  • #2
    Cassandra Clare
    “Remember when you tried to convince me to feed a poultry pie to the mallards in the park to see if you could breed a race of cannibal ducks?"

    "They ate it too," Will reminisced. "Bloodthirsty little beasts. Never trust a duck.”
    Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel

  • #3
    Cassandra Clare
    “Will looked horrified. "What kind of monster could possibly hate chocolate?”
    Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel

  • #4
    Cassandra Clare
    “You know," Gabriel said, "there was a time I thought we could be friends, Will."

    "There was a time I thought I was a ferret," Will said, "but that turned out to be the opium haze. Did you know it had that effect? Because I didn't.”
    Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel

  • #5
    Cassandra Clare
    “Of course you can have a true Shadowhunter name," Will said. "You can have mine."
    Tessa stared at him, all black and white against the black-and-white snow and stone. "Your name?"
    Will took a step toward her, till they stood face-to-face. Then he reached to take her hand and slid off her glove, which he put into his pocket. He held her bare hand in his, his fingers curved around hers. His hand was warm and callused, and his touch made her shiver. His eyes were steady and blue; they were everything that Will was: true and tender, sharp and witty, loving and kind. "Marry me," he said. "Marry me, Tess. Marry me and be called Tessa Herondale. Or be Tessa Gray, or be whatever you wish to call yourself, but marry me and stay with me and never leave me, for I cannot bear another day of my life to go by that does not have you in it.”
    Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

  • #6
    Jay Asher
    “You don’t know what goes on in anyone’s life but your own. And when you mess with one part of a person’s life, you’re not messing with just that part. Unfortunately, you can’t be that precise and selective. When you mess with one part of a person’s life, you’re messing with their entire life. Everything. . . affects everything.”
    Jay Asher, Thirteen Reasons Why

  • #7
    Kiera Cass
    “Break my heart. Break it a thousand times if you like. It was only ever yours to break anyway.”
    Kiera Cass, The One

  • #8
    Meg Cabot
    “Unrequited love is all right in books and things, but in real life, it completely sucks”
    Meg Cabot, Haunted

  • #9
    Meg Cabot
    “My mother's psychologist says I have an overactive anger switch, but people just keep pissing me off.”
    Meg Cabot, Darkest Hour

  • #10
    Rainbow Rowell
    “Eleanor was right. She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.”
    Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor & Park

  • #11
    Kiera Cass
    “You’re too beautiful for your own good. Once you leave, we’ll have to send some of the guards with you. You’ll never survive on your own, poor thing.”
    Kiera Cass, The Selection

  • #12
    Richelle Mead
    “Damn it," I muttered.

    "What?" asked Adrian.

    "I hate when you're the sane one. That's my job."

    "Rose," he said, forcibly trying to keep a serious tone, "I can think of many words to describe you, sexy and hot being at the top of the list. You know what's not on the list? Sane.”
    Richelle Mead, Spirit Bound

  • #13
    Richelle Mead
    “You're beautiful in battle," said Dimitri. His cold voice carried to me clearly, even above the roar of combat. "Like an avenging angel come to deliver the justice of heaven."
    "Funny," I said, shifting my hold on the stake. "That is kind of why I'm here."
    "Angels fall, Rose.”
    Richelle Mead, Spirit Bound

  • #14
    Richelle Mead
    “Don't touch her," he growled.
    There was a note in his voice that would of scared me if it had been directed toward me. He shoved me behind him, putting his body protectively in front of mine with my back to the table. Guardians came at us from all directions,and Dimitri began dispatching them with the same deadly grace that had once made people call him a god.”
    Richelle Mead, Spirit Bound

  • #15
    Richelle Mead
    “Auras tell a lot, Rose, and I'm very good at reading them. Much better than you friends probably are. A spirit dream wraps you own aura in gold, which is how I knew. Your personal aura is unique to you, though it fluctuates with your feelings and soul. When people are in love, it shows. Their auras shine. When you were dreaming, yours was bright. The colors were bright...but not what expected from a boyfriend. Of course, not every relationship is the same. People are at different stages. I would've brushed it off, except..."
    "Except what?"
    "Except, when you're with Dimitri, your aura's like the sun. So is his.”
    Richelle Mead, Last Sacrifice

  • #16
    Richelle Mead
    “I love you, Roza." He kissed me again. "I'll always be here for you. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
    The words were wonderful and dangerous. He shouldn't have said anything like that to me. He shouldn't have been promising he'd protect me, not when he was supposed to dedicate his life to protecting Moroi like Lissa. I couldn't be first in his heart, just like he couldn't be first in mine. That was why I shouldn't have said what I said next-but I did anyway.
    "And I won't let anything happen to you," I promised. "I love you." He kissed me again, swallowing off any other words I might have added.”
    Richelle Mead, Shadow Kiss

  • #17
    Cassandra Clare
    “Clary,

    Despite everything, I can't bear the thought of this ring being lost forever, any more then I can bear the thought of leaving you forever. And though I have no choice about the one, at least I can choose about the other. I'm leaving you our family ring because you have as much right to it as I do.
    I'm writing this watching the sun come up. You're asleep, dreams moving behind your restless eyelids. I wish I knew what you were thinking. I wish I could slip into your head and see the world the way you do. I wish I could see myself the way you do. But maybe I dont want to see that. Maybe it would make me feel even more than I already do that I'm perpetuating some kind of Great Lie on you, and I couldn't stand that.
    I belong to you. You could do anything you wanted with me and I would let you. You could ask anything of me and I'd break myself trying to make you happy. My heart tells me this is the best and greatest feeling I have ever had. But my mind knows the difference between wanting what you can't have and wanting what you shouldn't want. And I shouldn't want you.
    All night I've watched you sleeping, watched the moonlight come and go, casting its shadows across your face in black and white. I've never seen anything more beautiful. I think of the life we could have had if things were different, a life where this night is not a singular event, separate from everything else that's real, but every night. But things aren't different, and I can't look at you without feeling like I've tricked you into loving me.
    The truth no one is willing to say out loud is that no one has a shot against Valentine but me. I can get close to him like no one else can. I can pretend I want to join him and he'll believe me, up until that last moment where I end it all, one way or another. I have something of Sebastian's; I can track him to where my father's hiding, and that's what I'm going to do. So I lied to you last night. I said I just wanted one night with you. But I want every night with you. And that's why I have to slip out of your window now, like a coward. Because if I had to tell you this to your face, I couldn't make myself go.
    I don't blame you if you hate me, I wish you would. As long as I can still dream, I will dream of you.

    _Jace”
    Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

  • #18
    Cassandra Clare
    Tess, Tess, Tessa.

    Was there ever a more beautiful sound than your name? To speak it aloud makes my heart ring like a bell. Strange to imagine that, isn’t it – a heart ringing – but when you touch me that is what it is like: as if my heart is ringing in my chest and the sound shivers down my veins and splinters my bones with joy.

    Why have I written these words in this book? Because of you. You taught me to love this book where I had scorned it. When I read it for the second time, with an open mind and heart, I felt the most complete despair and envy of Sydney Carton. Yes, Sydney, for even if he had no hope that the woman he loved would love him, at least he could tell her of his love. At least he could do something to prove his passion, even if that thing was to die.

    I would have chosen death for a chance to tell you the truth, Tessa, if I could have been assured that death would be my own. And that is why I envied Sydney, for he was free.

    And now at last I am free, and I can finally tell you, without fear of danger to you, all that I feel in my heart.

    You are not the last dream of my soul.

    You are the first dream, the only dream I ever was unable to stop myself from dreaming. You are the first dream of my soul, and from that dream I hope will come all other dreams, a lifetime’s worth.

    With hope at least,
    Will Herondale

    Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince

  • #19
    Casey McQuiston
    “I am, and always have been - first, last, and always - a child of America.

    You raised me. I grew up in the pastures and hills of Texas, but I had been to thirty-four states before I learned how to drive. When I caught the stomach flu in the fifth grade, my mother sent a note to school written on the back of a holiday memo from Vice President Biden. Sorry, sir—we were in a rush, and it was the only paper she had on hand.

    I spoke to you for the first time when I was eighteen, on the stage of the Democratic National Convention in Philadelphia, when I introduced my mother as the nominee for president. You cheered for me. I was young and full of hope, and you let me embody the American dream: that a boy who grew up speaking two languages, whose family was blended and beautiful and enduring, could make a home for himself in the White House.

    You pinned the flag to my lapel and said, “We’re rooting for you.” As I stand before you today, my hope is that I have not let you down.

    Years ago, I met a prince. And though I didn’t realize it at the time, his country had raised him too.

    The truth is, Henry and I have been together since the beginning of this year. The truth is, as many of you have read, we have both struggled every day with what this means for our families, our countries, and our futures. The truth is, we have both had to make compromises that cost us sleep at night in order to afford us enough time to share our relationship with the world on our own terms.

    We were not afforded that liberty.

    But the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable. America has always believed this. And so, I am not ashamed to stand here today where presidents have stood and say that I love him, the same as Jack loved Jackie, the same as Lyndon loved Lady Bird. Every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it, whom the American people will “hold beside them in hearts and memories and history books. America: He is my choice.

    Like countless other Americans, I was afraid to say this out loud because of what the consequences might be. To you, specifically, I say: I see you. I am one of you. As long as I have a place in this White House, so will you. I am the First Son of the United States, and I’m bisexual. History will remember us.

    If I can ask only one thing of the American people, it’s this: Please, do not let my actions influence your decision in November. The decision you will make this year is so much bigger than anything I could ever say or do, and it will determine the fate of this country for years to come. My mother, your president, is the warrior and the champion that each and every American deserves for four more years of growth, progress, and prosperity. Please, don’t let my actions send us backward. I ask the media not to focus on me or on Henry, but on the campaign, on policy, on the lives and livelihoods of millions of Americans at stake in this election.

    And finally, I hope America will remember that I am still the son you raised. My blood still runs from Lometa, Texas, and San Diego, California, and Mexico City. I still remember the sound of your voices from that stage in Philadelphia. I wake up every morning thinking of your hometowns, of the families I’ve met at rallies in Idaho and Oregon and South Carolina. I have never hoped to be anything other than what I was to you then, and what I am to you now—the First Son, yours in actions and words. And I hope when Inauguration Day comes again in January, I will continue to be.”
    Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue

  • #20
    Casey McQuiston
    “I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen, and I had better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.
    And then I was a careless fool, and I fell in love with you anyway. When you rang me at truly shocking hours of the night, I loved you. When you kissed me in disgusting public toilets and pouted in hotel bars and made me happy in ways in which it had never even occurred to me that a mangled-up, locked-up person like me could be happy, I loved you.
    And then, inexplicably, you had the absolute audacity to love me back. Can you believe it?
    Sometimes, even now, I still can't.”
    Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue

  • #21
    Casey McQuiston
    “And Alex’s heart doesn’t spread itself out in his chest, and he doesn’t have to grip the edge of the settee to steady himself. Because that’s what he would do if he were here in this palace to fall in love with Henry, and not just continuing this thing where they fly across the world to touch each other and don’t talk about it. That’s not why he’s here. It’s not.”
    Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue

  • #22
    Casey McQuiston
    “Listen,” he says, pulling a curled fist out of his pocket. He takes one of Alex’s hands and turns it to press something small and heavy into his palm. “I want you to know, I’m sure. A thousand percent.”

    He removes his hand and there, sitting in the center of Alex’s callused palm, is the signet ring.

    “What?” Alex’s eyes flash up to search Henry’s face and find him smiling softly. “I can’t—”

    “Keep it,” Henry tells him. “I’m sick of wearing it.”

    It’s a private airstrip, but it’s still risky, so he folds Henry in a hug and whispers fiercely, “I completely fucking love you.”

    At cruising altitude, he takes the chain off his neck and slides the ring on next to the old house key. They clink together gently as he tucks them both under his shirt, two homes side by side.”
    Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue

  • #23
    Casey McQuiston
    “The way Henry's looking at him in the picture is so affectionate, so openly loving, that seeing it from a third person's perspective almost makes Alex want to look away, like he's staring into the sun. He called Henry the North Star once. That wasn't bright enough.”
    Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue

  • #24
    Catherynne M. Valente
    “One: A Library Is the Size of the Universe and the Universe Is the Size of a Library. Two: Everyone Is Looking for a Book Strong Enough to Change Them. Three: Books Operate Under Unstable Physicks so Turn out the Lights when You Lock Up.”
    Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There

  • #25
    Catherynne M. Valente
    “After all, in fairy tales, there was only one thing to do. In every story with a long sleep and a waking in it. An easy thing, a pretty thing. Standard currency.”
    Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There

  • #26
    Catherynne M. Valente
    “what did you think you were doing, then, when you went up through one door and down through another, turning this way and that, through the pages of a book and a deep mine and an entire ocean and the hideout of a wise old woman? My dear, labyrinths ensnare and entangle; they draw one inexorably inward-but it wouldn't be much of a labyrinth if you waited in line with a ticket to get it and the door was clearly marked, like some country-harvest hay maze. All underworlds are labyrinths, in the end. Perhaps all the sunlit lands, too. A labyrinth, when it is big enough, is just the world.”
    Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There

  • #27
    Catherynne M. Valente
    “Readers will always insist on adventures, and though you can have grief without adventures, you cannot have adventures without grief.”
    Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making

  • #28
    Catherynne M. Valente
    “... but as has been said, September read often, and liked it best when words did not pretend to be simple, but put on their full armor and rode out with colors flying.”
    Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making

  • #29
    Catherynne M. Valente
    “When I was a young girl, I studied Greek in school. It's a beautiful language and ever so many good things were written in it. When you speak Greek, it feels like a little bird flapping its wings on your tongue as fast as it can. This is why I sometimes put Greek words into my stories, even though not so many people speak Ancient Greek anymore. Anything beautiful deserves to be shared round, and anything I love goes into my stories for safekeeping.
    The word I love is Arete.
    It has a simple meaning and a complicated meaning. The simple one is: excellence. But if that were all, we'd just use Excellence and I wouldn't bring it up until we got to E. Arete means your own excellence. Your very own. A personal excellence that belongs to no one else, one that comes out of all the things that make you special and different. Arete means whatever you are best at, no matter what that is. You might think the Greeks only meant things like fighting with bronze swords or debating philosophy, but they didn't. They meant whatever you're best at. What makes you feel like you're doing the rightest thing in the world. And that might be fighting with bronze swords and it might mean debating philosophy—but it also might mean building machines, or drawing pictures, or playing the guitar, or acting in Shakespeare plays, or writing books, or making a home for people who need one, or listening so hard and so well that people tell you the things they really need to say even if they didn't mean to, or running faster than anyone else, or teaching people patiently and boldly, or even making pillow forts or marching in parades or baking bread. It could be lending out just the right library book to just the right person at just the right moment. It could be standing up to the powerful even if you don't feel very powerful yourself, even if you're lost and as far away from home as you can get. It could be loving someone with the same care and thoroughness that a Wyvern takes with alphabetizing. It could be anything in the world. And it isn't easy to figure out what that is. It's even harder to get that good at it, because nothing, not even being yourself, comes without practice. But your arete goes with you everywhere, just waiting for you to pay attention to it. You can't lose it. You can only find it. And that's my favorite thing that starts with A.”
    Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There

  • #30
    Catherynne M. Valente
    “Koschei smiled. His pale lips sought hers, crushing her into a kiss like dying. She tasted sweetness there, as though he still kissed her with honey and sugar on his tongue. When he pulled away, his eyes shone.

    "I don't care, Marya Morevna. Kiss him. Take him to your bed, and the vila, too, for all it matters to me. Do you understand me, wife? There need never be any rules between us. Let us be greedy together; let us hoard. Let us hit each other with birch branches and lock each other in dungeons; let us drink each other's blood in the night and betray each other in the sun. Let us lie and lust and take hundreds of lovers; let us dance until snow melts beneath us. Let us steal and eat until we grow fat and roll in the pleasures of life, clutching each other for purchase. Only leave me my death — let me hold this one thing sacred and unmolested and secret — and I will serve you a meal myself, served on a platter of all the world's bounty. Only do not leave me, swear that you will never leave me, and no empress will stand higher. Forget the girls in the factory. Be selfish and cruel and think nothing of them. I am selfish. I am cruel. My mate cannot be less than I. I will have you in my hoard, Marya Morevna, my black mirror.”
    Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless



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