Chapter 1 Quotes

“I know what I'm capable of; I am a soldier now, a warrior. I am someone to fear, not hunt.”
― Pittacus Lore, The Rise of Nine

“It is mine, I tell you. My own. My precious. Yes, my precious.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

“The only realism in art is of the imagination.”
― William Carlos Williams

“Well, no one treats me like a full-fledged royal, said Lissa, turning back to the dresses. No reason to act like one now. Show me your straps and short-sleeves.”
― Richelle Mead, Last Sacrifice

“I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful.”
― Stephenie Meyer, Twilight

“The problem with hope, Anne finds through the years, is that it gets your hopes up. But hopelessness is worse.”
― Kelly Braffet, Last Seen Leaving

“In description words adhere to certain objects, and have the effect on the sense of oysters, or barnacles.”
― William Carlos; Edith Heal (editor) Williams

“How many Praesi does it take to change a lantern’s wick?
A legion to conquer all the candlemakers, a High Lord to sell the wicks down south and then we’re taxed for being in the dark.”
– Overheard in a Laure tavern”
― ErraticErrata, So You Want to Be a Villain?

“Much of what was to become modern art and the changed concept of the function of museums was spurred by a cadre of women on the East Coast who changed the face of American museums. Women like Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney (Whitney Museum of American Art), Lillie Bliss (Museum of Modern Art), and Abby Rockefeller (Museum of Modern Art), contributed their significant influence, wealth, and tireless enthusiasm to promoting contemporary art and artists.”
― Ivy Hendy, Almost Like Us: Peoples of the Stone Age

“You can't always be a hero," he whispered. "Sometimes just surviving is the best that you can do.”
― L.A. Weatherly, Darkness Follows

“I would rather admire you from this distance, fair lady, than be the partner of your home.”
― Anne Brontë, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall

“Meredith Combs, the social worker responsible for selecting the stream of adoptive families that gave me back, wanted to talk to me about blame.”
― Vanessa Diffenbaugh, The Language of Flowers

“a

La abuela se ha acabado. Le da igual que rompamos todos los geranios de la terraza a balonazos, que nos sentemos en los sofás y tiremos los tapetes de ganchillo o estropeemos una vez más el mecanismo de aquel extraño dispensador de cigarrillos. Cuando estamos allí de visita nos persigue a mí y mi madre –vámonos!—dice. La abuela se ha acabado pero su tiempo sigue vivo. Mientras le corto el pelo al abuelo o paso una escoba ella me pellizca, dice que ya está limpio, que no siga, y luego me mira con un gesto serio que por un segundo me hace sentir como un niño regañado e insiste en que nos vayamos, que hay que ir a ver a su padre, a su tía, a mamá, porque el bebé estuvo llorando toda la noche y debe tener frío y estar enfermo. Y en este punto se aflige y da tres o cuatro vueltas y sufrimos todos mientras la vemos que hace sin deshacer y deshace lo que no está hecho todavía.”
― José Gonzalez, La visita

“meñique

La mano fue una brida bien fría que descansó en un punto parecido al asiento de una mandíbula. Un dedo, el más largo, se hundió doblado, fuera de su sitio, como un desveneno apurando lo permisible, la obediencia, su terreno indagatorio. Había vértices y talones, cañones, una palanca y un mallón en forma de «s» que iba suspendido sobre un corchete del brazo derecho del niño pequeño; el izquierdo ni él sabía dónde se encontraba.
Lo situó llegado el momento porque hacía cosquillas el barboquejo en el extremo del mentón que figuraba como lo visible entre unas rodillas separadas y unos pies hundidos. La luz era pálida y se extendía en una especie de halo artificial porque se había colado por donde había podido. Huecos inaccesibles, oscuros hasta ese instante.
La casa vacía, los ojos llenos, la infancia asintiendo. Cuando uno hace algo mal el otro también lo sabe. Es posible que los hermanos, como la culpa, debieran llevar cabezadas y bocado. Puede que tratar de controlar o dominar conlleve decisiones arriesgadas. Definitivas a veces.
Ella, la mayor, estaba sonrojada, algo mareada ya. Sus primeros temores, nada más sobrevenirse aquello, acudieron como un escalofrío que llevaba a la mente fuera del cuerpo.”
― José Gonzalez, Ella siempre está

“Amari swung around in her seat to look back and there was indeed a small girl sitting on the boundary wall. She didn’t seem to be looking at the car that had just passed but up ahead. Amari turned around to see what she was looking at and she saw it, up ahead, the farm house that she could only assume was their new home.”
― Sian B. Claven, Ensnared

“Usually, I leave it alone since it’s none of my business, but with Ayden, I’m curious. I have questions. Lots and lots of questions. I make a vow to myself right then and there that one day, as his friend, I will get to know him and find out his story. Then, I’ll make him smile for real.”
― Jessica Sorensen, Unraveling You

“Panic rose and her palms itched as she ran, heart racing and cold sweat dripping down her neck. There was still an option left to her. One horrible option.”
― S.D. Howard, The City of Snow & Stars

“She had to get away; she had to find help. Only then would she be able to repay him for the wounds he’d given her, seen and unseen.”
― S.D. Howard, The City of Snow & Stars

“I dig out some change from my pocket. She takes a careful look at the nickels and dimes. God blesses me anyway.”
― Jenny Offill, Weather

“Loyalty.
One word. Three syllables. Seven letters.
Zero meaning.”
― Emily McIntire, Scarred

“We were dining at Shepheard’s when I made this discovery. It did not come to me with any shock of surprise, but more as the recognition of a fact with which I had been long familiar. I looked at her with new eyes—but I saw what I had already known for a long time. I liked everything I saw.”
― Agatha Christie, Crooked House

“Does the real thing ever have the perfection of a stage performance?”
― Agatha Christie, Crooked House

“In Faerie, there are no fish sticks, no ketchup, and no television.”
― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”
― n.a