Daria Vernon > Quotes

“Harry’s legs were heavy with blood as his head grew light.”
― Daria Vernon, The Rogue's Last Letter

“He was seduced by the way she’d sung his own song to him for help. Was seduced by the tension of cautious trust between them. By the earnest despair in her eyes when the water had burned him. By the feeling of being needed after having been discarded by the only life he’d ever known—a life at sea. By the fact that even the most powerful creatures have their weaknesses and must, apparently, feel loved.”
― Daria Vernon, The Sailor's Song

“Gerald, you frivolous twit! Get your feathered ass here at once!”
― Daria Vernon, Get Thee Off My Lawn

“She’d asked, What now? As though there were formal protocol on how to handle a drenched trespasser. A swan thief. A fetching filcher of fowl.”
― Daria Vernon, Get Thee Off My Lawn

“When they’d been alone at the bottom of the ravine that first day, he’d learned who she really was. His first assumptions were picked up by the fist of truth and smashed upon the ground. She’d stared him down, threatening to fling herself once more down that horrible slope—it was in that moment that her animal eyes dragged his rakish heart to its knees in respect for her.”
― Daria Vernon, The Highwayman's Folly

“You want to feel that again, Ersa? You would give me that power again?” “I give you nothing. You already have it.”
― Daria Vernon, The Sailor's Song

“April Nightingale, I will never draw a map to see you away from me...” He took two strides forward and kissed her, lingering over her lips once he pulled away. “I shall only draw maps to bring you back.”
― Daria Vernon, Get Thee Off My Lawn

“You have nearly drowned twice today. Once in my pond and again in my dressing gown.”
― Daria Vernon, Get Thee Off My Lawn

“Something was different. Some difficult tangle had come undone in the bond between them. The weavers of fate had reworked the thread they shared into a taut, direct strand—one that could be plucked to render some exquisite note belonging solely to them. He could feel half of that note starting to ring out inside himself, unfamiliar and frightening. The vibrations sent a sickness through him at the thought of their parting.”
― Daria Vernon, The Highwayman's Folly