Caro > Caro's Quotes

“She realized that Rowan saw each of those thoughts and more as he reached into his tunic and pulled out a dagger. Her dagger. He extended it to her, it's long blade gleaming as if he'd been secretly polishing and caring for it these months.
And when she grasped the dagger, it's weight lighter than she remembered, Rowan looked into her eyes, into her very core of her, and said, 'Fireheart'.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“You didn't need a weapon at all when you were born one.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“You collect scars because you want proof that you are paying for whatever sins you've committed. And I know this because I've been doing the same damn thing for two hundred years. Tell me, do you think you will go to some blessed Afterworld, or do you expect a burning hell? You're hoping for hell--because how could you face them in the Afterworld? Better to suffer, to be damned for eternity and--”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“You don't bite the women of other males.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“He looked at his friend, perhaps for the last time, and said what he had always known, from the moment they’d met, when he’d understood that the prince was his brother in soul. “I love you.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“When my mate died, it took me a very, very long time to come back."
It took her a moment to think of what to say.
"How long?"
"Two hundred three years, twenty-seven days ago.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“She yawned, and Rowan rubbed his eyes, his other hand still in hers. But he didn't let go. And when she awoke before dawn, warm and safe and rested, Rowan was still holding her hand, clasped to his chest.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Celaena walked and walked, until she found herself by the tree-lined shore of a lake, glaringly bright in the midday sun. She figured it was as good a spot as any as she crumpled to the mossy bank, as her arms wrapped tight around herself and she bowed over her knees.
There was nothing that could be done to fix her. And she was...she was...
A whimpering noise came out of her, lips trembling to hard she had to clamp down to keep the sound inside.
--
She vaguely felt the light shifting on the lake. Vaguely felt the sighing wind, warm as it brushed against her damp cheeks. And heard, so soft it was as if she dreamed it, a woman's voice whispering, Why are you crying, Fireheart?...
"Because I am lost," she whispered onto the earth. "And I do not know the way.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Faster than lightening, his hand shot out and she gagged, jolting as he grabbed her tongue between his fingers...He released her tongue, and she gasped for breath. She swore at him, a filthy, foul name, and spat at his feet. And that's when he bit her. She cried out as those canines pierced the spot between her neck and shoulder, a primal act of aggression--the bite so strong and claiming that she was too stunned to move. He had her pinned against the tree and clamped down harder, his canines digging deep, her blood spilling onto her shirt. Pinned, like some weakling. But that was what she'd become, wasn't it? Useless, pathetic.

She growled, more animal than sentient being. And shoved.

Rowan staggered back a step, teeth ripping her skin and she struck his chest. She didn't feel the pain, didn't care about the blood or flash of light. No, she wanted to rip his throat out--rip it out with the elongated canines she bared at him as she finished shifting and roared.
Rowan grinned. "There you are.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“…Aedion Ashryer let himself be led into the darkness…
He did not mind dying.
Though he still wished he’d gotten a chance to see her—just once.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“But her attention was on the prince across from her, who seemed utterly ignored by his father and his own court, shoved down near the end with her and Aedion.

He ate so beautifully, she thought, watching him cut into his roast chicken. Not a drop moved out of place, not a scrap fell on the table. She had decent manners, while Aedion was hopeless, his plate littered with bones and crumbs scattered everywhere, even some on her own dress. She’d kicked him for it, but his attention was too focused on the royals down the table.

So both she and the Crown Prince were to be ignored, then. She looked at the boy again, who was around her age, she supposed. His skin was from the winter, his blue-black hair neatly trimmed; his sapphire eyes lifted from his plate to meet hers.

“You eat like a fine lady,” she told him.

His lips thinned and color stained his ivory cheeks. Across from her, Quinn, her uncle’s Captain of the Guard, choked on his water.

The prince glanced at his father—still busy with her uncle—before replying. Not for approval, but in fear. “I eat like a prince,” Dorian said quietly.

“You do not need to cut your bread with a fork and knife,” she said. A faint pounding started in her head, followed by a flickering warmth, but she ignored it. The hall was hot, as they’d shut all the windows for some reason.

“Here in the North,” she went on as the prince’s knife and fork remained where they were on his dinner roll, “you need not be so formal. We don’t put on airs.”

Hen, one of Quinn’s men, coughed pointedly from a few seats down. She could almost hear him saying, Says the little lady with her hair pressed into careful curls and wearing her new dress that she threatened to skin us over if we got dirty.

She gave Hen an equally pointed look, then returned her attention to the foreign prince. He’d already looked down at his food again, as if he expected to be neglected for the rest of the night. And he looked lonely enough that she said, “If you like, you could be my friend.” Not one of the men around them said anything, or coughed.

Dorian lifted his chin. “I have a friend. He is to be Lord of Anielle someday, and the fiercest warrior in the land.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“And slowly, wobbling, a droplet of water the size of a marble rose from the surface to her cupped palm.

“No wonder your sense of self-preservation is so pathetic, if that’s all the water you can conjure.” But Rowan flicked her chin, and she knew he understood what it meant, to have summoned even a droplet to her hand. To feel her mother smiling at her from realms away.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“The king picked up his goblet, swirling the wine inside. 'I didn't receive word that your legion was here.'

"They're not."

Chaol braced for the execution order, praying he wouldn't be the one to do it. The king said, "I told you to bring them, General."

"Here, I was thinking you wanted the plesure of my company.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Rowan looked into her eyes, into the very core of her, and said, “Fireheart.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“See what you want, Aelin, and seize it. Don't ask for it; don't wish for it. Take it.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Primal anger sharpened in his gut, brimming with a territorial, possessive need. Not a need for her, but a need to portect--a male's duty and honor.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“You could rattle the stars,
that's what scares you the most”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“At least if you’re going to hell,” he said, the vibrations in his chest rumbling against her, “then we’ll be there together.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“I have a friend. He is to be Lord of Anielle someday, and the fiercest warrior in the land.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“He let out a soft, lethal laugh that raked claws down her temper.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“So what if you burned a few books? Those librarians deserve it. When we're older, maybe we'll burn it to the ground together."
She knew he meant it. He'd burn the library, the city, or the whole world to ashes if she asked him. It was their bond, marked by blood and scent and something else she couldn't place. A tether as strong as the one that bound her to her parents, stronger in some ways.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“With every breath, Aideon felt that lingering scent wrapping tighter around his heart and soul. When she came back, he was never letting her go.”
― Sarah J. Maas , Heir of Fire

“That was all Celaena needed to hear before she tossed the ring to Maeve, before Rowan rushed to her, his hands on her cheeks, his brow against her own. “Aelin,” he murmured, and it wasn’t a reprimand, or a thank-you, but … a prayer. “Aelin,” he whispered again, grinning, and kissed her brow before he dropped to both knees before her.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“He forgot Gavriel and Lorcan as he bolted for her—the gold and red and blue flames utterly hers, this heir of fire. Spying him at last, she smiled faintly. A queen’s smile.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“He was a boy in love with a wildfire. Or at least he thought he was”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“A white-tailed hawk still flew overhead, and it swooped low to brush its star-silvered wing against her cheek in farewell before it turned back with a sharp cry.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“She yawned, and Rowan rubbed his eyes, his other hand still in hers. But he didn’t let go. And when she awoke before dawn, warm and safe and rested, Rowan was still holding her hand, clasped to his chest. Something molten rushed through her, pouring over every crack and fracture still left gaping and open. Not to hurt or mar—but to weld. To forge.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Saying those words made a sharp, quick panic rise up in her, an aching pain that had her throat closing. “You left me,” she repeated. Maybe it was only out of blind terror at the abyss opening up again around her, but she whispered, “I have no one left. No one.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Holy gods. He'd frozen the whole damn lake. He was THAT powerful?”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“The creature took Aelin's face in its hands, and her sword thudded to the ground, forgotten.
Rowan was screaming as the creature pulled her into its arms. As she stopped fighting. As her flames winked out and darkness swallowed her whole.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire