Merely surviving without doing harm seemed chore enough.
It is a dangerous thing to bring a dream to life....I have watched my deepest, dearest hopes take shape, and I am not entirely sure I like the shape they have taken.
I aspire to wisdom, my lady. I do not believe I possess it, not yet. But my lord Ptolemy Solon holds that happiness is the highest form of wisdom. I made a broad gesture. Today the sun is shining and...
After you, it's all cheap tequila.
You’ve touched a good many lives, Imriel, Sidonie observed. A good many lives have touched mine, I said in reply.
You should not be here, the forest whispered behind us. You do not belong here.
To my surprise, Joscelin rose. ‘Phedre-’ He began, then halted. Sitting below him, I watched him smile to himself, quiet and private. ‘Phedre yields with a willow’s grace,’ he said softly. ‘And endure...
There would be love, and while it was mine, I could cling to it. I could rejoice -- in life, in the existence of love. In the existence of people like Phedre and Joscelin. Although the standards they...
She was oh, so very beautiful to me, and her strength and courage and daring vulnerability only made her the more so.
One does not reckon, at such times, the cost to one's limbs and joints; there is a limit to the pliancy of the mortal form.
My taste is for spices, and not sweets.
Like a falling star, he descended on the Tarbh Cró, a Cassiline berserker, his sword biting and slashing like a silver snake.
I never forgot, never, that it had been he who, with two words, turned my deadliest flaw to a treasure beyond price.
I know what you are. I've always known from the beginning, Kushiel's Chosen. It is folly, to make claim on one whom the gods have marked for their own. And unlike the others, I am no fool, to grasp at...
Your goddamn bloodsucking boyfriend's been promising to change you for eight years! Jen said grimly. Wake up and smell the plasma, Beth!
Wars come and go; politics endure.
So you were good enough for the Cullach Gorrym, good enough to marry Dorelei mab Breidaia, good enough to beget Alba a successor, but not good enough for the Queen’s daughter? Urist’s lips curled with...
Poetry glories in excess. When it's not extolling the virtues of austerity.
Mercy and compassion are all the grace left to us.
It is not wise to meddle with D'Angelines in matters of love.