Imme

“Remember when we told each other no distractions?
Yes. He runs a blazing finger over my earrings, touching each one in turn.
Distract me.”
― Victoria Aveyard, King's Cage

“But then she snapped your neck.”
Tears rolled down his face.
“And I felt you die,” he whispered.
Tears were sliding down my own cheeks.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Men of dreams, the lovers and the poets, are better in most things than the men of my sort; the men of intellect. You take your being from your mothers. You live to the full: it is given you to love with your whole strength, to know and taste the whole of life. We thinkers, though often we seem to rule you, cannot live with half your joy and full reality. Ours is a thin and arid life, but the fullness of being is yours; yours the sap of the fruit, the garden of lovers, the joyous pleasaunces of beauty. Your home is the earth, ours the idea of it. Your danger is to be drowned in the world of sense, ours to gasp for breath in airless space. You are a poet, I a thinker. You sleep on your mother's breast, I watch in the wilderness. On me there shines the sun; on you the moon with all the stars. Your dreams are all of girls, mine of boys—”
― Hermann Hesse, Narcissus and Goldmund

“Can I help you with something?" he asks. His lips twitch, fighting a losing battle against a wretched, playful grin.

I try to look cross with him, if only to keep up appearances. "You're supposed to be training."

"Worried I'm not getting enough exercise? I assure you, Mare," he says, winking, "we are."

It makes sense. Farley and Shade have been inseparable for a long while. Still, I gasp aloud, and swat his arm. "Shade Barrow!"

"Oh, come on, everyone knows. Not my fault you didn't figure it out.”
― Victoria Aveyard, Glass Sword