Cat Chaotic > Cat's Quotes

“They made a major mistake," he blurted out, "the dumb bastards, when they didn't start by killing you first."

"Benjamin Thomas Parish, that was the sweetest and most bizarre compliment anyone's ever given me."

I kissed him on the cheek. He kissed me on the mouth.

"You know," I whispered, "a year ago, I would have sold my soul for that."

He shook his head. "Not worth it." And, for one-ten thousandth of a second, all of it fell away, the despair and grief and anger and pain and hunger, and the old Ben Parish rose from the dead. The eyes that impaled. The smile that slayed. In another moment, he would fade, slide back into the new Ben, the one called Zombie, and I understood something I hadn't before: He was dead, the object of my schoolgirl desires, just as the schoolgirl who desired him was dead.”
― Rick Yancey, The Infinite Sea

“You are an ember in the ashes, Elias Veturius. You will spark and burn, ravage and destroy. You cannot change it. You cannot stop it.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“You are full, Laia. Full of life and dark and strength and spirit. You are in our dreams. You will burn, for you are an ember in the ashes.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“Fight back, Laia. For Darin. For Izzi. For every Scholar this beast has abused. Fight. A scream bursts from me, and I claw at Marcus’s face, but a punch to my stomach takes the wind out of my lungs. I double over, retching, and his knee comer up into my forehead. The hallway spins, and I drop to my knees. Then I hear him laughting, a sadistic chuckle that stokes my defiance.

Sluggishly, I throw myself at his legs. It won’t be like before, like during the raid when I let that Mask drag me about my own house like some dead thing.

This time, I’ll fight. Tooth and nail, I’ll fight.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“Elias and Laia are each other’s countermelodies. I am just a dissonant note.”
― Sabaa Tahir, A Torch Against the Night

“You—you were like me. You were a child. A normal child. And that was taken from you.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Well, it certainly makes you harder to hate.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“She has no idea how pretty she is—or what kind of problems her beauty will cause for her at a place like Blackcliff. The wind pulls at her hair again, and I catch her scent—like fruit and sugar.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“As long as there is life, there is hope.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“For tonight, maybe we can just be Laia and Elias.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“Are the Trials starting?” The girl claps her hands over her mouth. “I'm sorry,” she whispers. “I—”

“It's all right.” I don't smile at her. It will only scare her. For a female slave, a smile from a Mask is not usually a good thing. “I'm actually wondering the same thing. What's your name?”

“S-slave-Girl.” Of course. My mother would already have scourged her name out of existence.

“Right. You work for the Commandant?” I want her to say no. I want her to say that my mother roped her into this. I want her to say she's assigned to the kitchens or infirmary, where slaves aren't scarred or missing body parts.

But the girl nods in response to my question. Don't let my mother break you, I think. The girl meets my eyes, and there is that feeling again, low and hot and consuming. Don't be weak. Fight. Escape.

A gust of wind whips a strand free from her bun and across her cheekbone. Defiance flashes across her face as she holds my gaze, and for a second, I see my own desire for freedom mirrored, intensified in her eyes. It's something I've never detected in the eyes of a fellow student, let alone a Scholar slave. For one strange moment, I feel less alone.

But then she looks down, and I wonder at my own naiveté. She can't fight. She can't scape. Not from Blackcliff. I smile joylessly; in this, at least, the slave and I are more similar than she'll ever know.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“The tapping grows insistent, and I turn, intending to tell off the Cadet. Instead, I'm faced with a slave-girl looking up at me through impossibly long eyelashes. A heated, visceral shock flares through me at the clarity of her dark gold eyes. For a second, I forget my name.
I've never seen her before, because if I had, I'd remember. Despite the heavy silver cuffs and high, painful-looking bun that mark all of Blackcliff's drudges, nothing about her says slave. Her black dress fits her like a glove, sliding over every curve in a way that makes more than one head turn. Her full lips and fine, straight nose would be the envy of most girls, Scholar or not. I stare at her, realize I'm staring, tell myself to stop staring, and then keep staring. My breath falters, and my body, traitor that is, tugs me forward until there are only inches between us.

“Asp-aspirant Veturius.”

It's the way she says my name—like it's something to fear—that brings me back to myself. Pull it together, Veturius. I step away, appalled at myself when I see the terror in her eyes.

“What is it?” I ask calmly.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“Laia is curled in a ball on the other, one hand on her armlet, fast asleep.
"You are my temple", I murmur as I knee beside her. "You are my priest. You are my prayer. You are my release."- Elias”
― Sabaa Tahir, A Torch Against the Night

“All evil here. Monsters. Little monsters and then big ones.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“When did you start here?” I ask her.

“Three days ago. Sir. Aspirant. Um—” She wrings her hands.

“Veturius is fine.”

She walks carefully, gingerly—the Commandant must have whipped her recently. And yet she doesn't hunch or shuffle like the others slaves. The straight-backed grace with which she moves tells her story better than words. She'd been a freewoman before this—I'd bet my scims on it. And she has no idea how pretty she is—or what kind of problems her beauty will cause for her at a place like Blackcliff. The wind pulls at her hair again, and I catch her scent—like fruit and sugar.

“Can I give you some advice?”

Her head flies up like a scared animal's. At least she's wary. “Right now you...” Will grab the attention of every male in a square mile. “Stand out,” I finish. “It's hot, but you should wear a hood or a cloak—something to help you blend in.”

She nods, but her eyes are suspicious. She wraps her arms around herself and drops back a little. I don't speak to her again.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“I'm too hot to care.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“After I pull my eyes away from her, I realize that I'm not the only one dumbstruck. Many of the young men around me sneak glances at her. She doesn't seem to notice, which, of course, makes her all the more intriguing.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“So long as you fight in the darkness, you stand in the light.”
― Sabaa Tahir, A Torch Against the Night

“You are my priest. You are my prayer. You are my release.”
― Sabaa Tahir, A Torch Against the Night

“You’re sure this is what you want?” I search her eyes for doubt, fear, uncertainty, but all I see is that fire. Ten hells
“I’m sure”
“Then I’ll find a way”
― Sabaa Tahir, A Torch Against the Night

“But a part of me wants to fling the cloak off and put Elias’s back on. I know I’m acting the fool, but somehow Elias’s cloak made me feel good. Perhaps because more than reminding me of him, it reminded me of who I was around him. Braver. Stronger. Flawed, certainly, but unafraid. I miss that girl. That Laia. That version of myself that burned brightest when Elias Veturius was near. The Laia who made mistakes. The Laia whose mistakes led to needless death. How could I forget? I thank Keenan quietly and stuff the old cloak in my bag. Then I pull the new one closer and tell myself that it’s warmer.”
― Sabaa Tahir, A Torch Against the Night

“Mmm. You strike me as a jam-maker.” “Really? Why?” He grins down at me. Up close, his eyes look almost black, especially shadowed as they are by long eyelashes. Right now, they shine with barely restrained mirth. “Because you’re so sweet,” he says in a mock-saccharine voice. The mischief in his eyes makes me forget, for a too-brief second, that I am a slave and that my brother is in prison and that everyone else I love is dead. Laughter explodes out of me like a song, and my eyes blur and tear. A snort escapes, which sets my dance partner to laughing, which makes me laugh harder. Only Darin ever made me laugh like this. The release is foreign and familiar, like crying, but without the pain. “What’s”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“As long as you want to save him, then I will help you. I made a vow. I’m not going to break it.” I take Laia’s hands in mine. Cool. Strong. I would keep them here, kiss every callus on her palms, nibble the inside of her wrist so she gasped. I would pull her closer and see if she too wished to give in to the fire that burns between us. But for what? So that she can grieve when I’m dead? It’s wrong. It’s selfish. I pull away from her slowly, holding her eyes as I do it, so she knows it’s the last thing I want. Hurt washes across her eyes. Confusion. Acceptance. I am glad she understands. I can’t get close to her—not in that way. I can’t let her get close to me. Doing so will only bring grief and pain. And she’s had enough of that.”
― Sabaa Tahir, A Torch Against the Night

“Lover?” The boy lifts an eyebrow suggestively. My face grows hot. “He’s my—my friend.” “Then why worry?” The boy flashes a grin tinged with wickedness, and I find myself smiling in return. I glance over my shoulder at Izzi, talking to an earnest-looking Scholar. She laughs at something he says, her hands, for once, not straying to her eyepatch. When she catches me watching, she looks between the Tribal boy and me and waggles her eyebrows. My face goes hot again. One dance can’t hurt; we can leave after. The”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“I can say something in Sadhese, if you like.” He drops his lips to my ear, and the spice of his breath sends a pleasant shiver through me. “Menaya es poolan dila dekanala.” I sigh. No wonder Tribesmen can sell anything. His voice is warm and deep, like summer honey dripping off the comb. “What—” My voice is hoarse, and I clear my throat. “What does it mean?” He gives me that smile again. “I’d really have to show you.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“I regard him anew, at last seeing him for what he is. “If you could just be who you are in here”—I place my palm over his heart—“instead of who they made you, then you would be a great Emperor.” I feel his pulse thud against my fingers. “But they won’t let you, will they? They won’t let you have compassion or kindness. They won’t let you keep your soul.” “My soul’s gone.” He looks away. “I killed it dead on that battlefield yesterday.” I think of Spiro Teluman then. Of what he said to me the last time I saw him. “There are two kinds of guilt,” I say softly. “The kind that’s a burden and the kind that gives you purpose. Let your guilt be your fuel. Let it remind you of who you want to be. Draw a line in your mind. Never cross it again. You have a soul. It’s damaged, but it’s there. Don’t let them take it from you, Elias.” His eyes meet mine when I say his name, and I reach up a hand to touch his mask. It is smooth and warm, like rock polished by water and then left to heat in the sun. I let my arm fall. Then I leave his room and walk to the doors of the barracks and out into the rising sun.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“Disappear! I scream the word in my mind, queen of the desolate landscape therein, ordering her ragged troops to a last stand.”
― Sabaa Tahir, A Torch Against the Night

“Even knowing all of that, if I head to Kauf alone, I can make it in half the time that it would take the wagons. I don’t wish to leave Laia—I will feel the absence of her voice, her face, every day. I already know it. But if I can make it to the prison in a month, I’ll have enough time before Rathana to break Darin out. The Tellis extract will keep the seizures at bay until the wagons get close to the prison. I will see Laia again. I rise, coil my bedroll, and make for Afya’s wagon. When I knock on the back door, it takes her only a moment to answer, despite it being the dead of night. She”
― Sabaa Tahir, A Torch Against the Night

“I do not doubt, I do not hesitate. I am the Lioness's daughter, and I have the Lioness's strength.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“He is beauty, inside and out.
He is the silver lining in a world of darkness.
He is my light.”
― Marie Lu, Prodigy

“Then Day reaches out and touches my hand with his. He encloses it in a handshake. And just like that, I am linked with him again, I feel the pulse of our bond and his- tory and love through our hands, like a wave of magic, the return of a long-lost friend. Of something meant to be. The feeling brings tears to my eyes. Perhaps we can take a step forward together.

“Hi,” he says. “I’m Daniel.”
“Hi,” I reply. “I’m June.”
― Marie Lu, Champion