Bex > Bex's Quotes

“You know, I never believed in fate until I met you... then I started thinking coincidence didn't have near so cruel a sense of humor”
― Alwyn Hamilton, Rebel of the Sands

“Jin had told me once there was no arguing against belief. It was a foreign language to logic.”
― Alwyn Hamilton, Rebel of the Sands

“She turned to Jin now, sprawled by the fire, his hat pulled over his eyes. “I can tell you’re awake. Are you coming with us?” He sighed, tipping his hat backward. “Yeah, yeah. Just trying to get some sleep before going to near certain death.”
― Alwyn Hamilton, Rebel of the Sands

“She was the heir of ash and fire, and she would bow to no one.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“And then I am going to rattle the stars.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“...her dearest friends are characters in books.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Because I am lost," she whispered onto the earth. "And I do not know the way.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius—­and she would not be afraid.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“It would not take a monster to destroy a monster - but light, light to drive out darkness.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“What are you doing?”
“What?”
Emrys didn’t raise his voice as he said, “To that girl. What are you doing that makes her come in here with such emptiness in her eyes?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
Emrys pressed his lips into a tight line. “What do you see when you look at her, Prince?”
He didn’t know. These days, he didn’t know a damn thing. “That’s none of your concern, either.”
Emrys ran a hand over his weathered face. “I see her slipping away, bit by bit, because you shove her down when she so desperately needs someone to help her back up.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“As for Celaena," he said again, "you do not have the right to wish she were not what she is. The only thing you have a right to do is decide whether you are her enemy or her friend.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Because she is dead!" She screamed the last word so loudly it burned in her throat. "Because she is dead, and I am left with my worthless life!”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Witches didn't need blood to survive, but humans didn't need wine, either.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“I wish you to become who you ­were born to be. To become queen.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Celaena shuddered. "This conversation's become far too awful to have after eating." she said, slumping against the pillows. "Tell me which one of your little cadre is the handsomest, and if he would fancy me."
Rowan choked. "The thought of you with any of my companions makes my blood run cold."
"They're that awful? Your kitty-cat friend looked decent enough."
Rowan's brows rose high. "I don't think my kitty-cat friend would know what to do with you-nor would any of the others. It would likely end in bloodshed." She kept grinning, and he crossed his arms. "They would likely have very little interest in you, as you'll be old and decrepit soon enough and thus not worth the effort it would take to win you."
She rolled her eyes. "Killjoy.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“And he looked lonely enough that she said, 'If you like, you could be my friend'.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“They have made you into monsters. Made Manon. And we feel sorry for you.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“That was when they noticed that every musician on the stage was wearing mourning black. That was when they shut up. And when the conductor raised his arms, it was not a symphony that filled the cavernous space.

It was the Song of Eyllwe.

Then Song of Fenharrow. And Melisande. And Terrasen. Each nation that had people in those labour camps.

And finally, not for pomp or triumph, but to mourn what they had become, they played the Song of Adarlan.

When the final note finished, the conductor turned to the crowd, the musicians standing with him. As one, they looked to the boxes, to all those jewels bought with the blood of a continent. And without a word, without a bow or another gesture, they walked off the stage.

The next morning, by royal decree, the theatre was shut down.

No one saw those musicians or their conductor again.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“His breath caught, harsh enough that she looked over her shoulder.

But his eyes weren't on her face. Or the water. They were on her bare back.

Curled as she was against her knees, he could see the whole expanse of ruined flesh, each scar from the lashing. "Who did that to you?"

It would have been easy to lie, but she was so tired, and he had saved her useless hide. So she said, "A lot of people. I spent some time in the Salt Mines of Endovier."

He was so still that she wondered if he'd stopped breathing. "How long?" he asked after a moment. She braced herself for the pity, but his face was so carefully blank-no, not blank. Calm with lethal rage.

"A year. I was there a year before... it's a long story." She was too exhausted, her throat too raw, to say the rest of it. She noticed then his arms were bandaged, and more bandages across his broad chest peeked up from beneath his shirt. She'd burned him again. And yet he had held her- had run all the way here and not let go once.

"You were a slave."

She gave him a slow nod. He opened his mouth, but shut it and swallowed, that lethal rage winking out. As if he remembered who he was talking to and that it was the least punishment she deserved.

He turned on his heel and shut the door behind him. She wished he'd slammed it-wished he'd shattered it. But he closed it with barely more than a click and did not return.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Each of the scars, the chipped teeth and broken claws, the mutilated tail—­they ­weren’t the markings of a victim. Oh, no. They ­were the trophies of a survivor. Abraxos was a warrior who’d had all the odds stacked against him and survived. Learned from it. Triumphed.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“These days, I am very glad to be a mortal, and to only have to endure this life once. These days, I don't envy you at all."

"And before?"

It was her turn to stare toward the horizon. "I used to wish I had a chance to see it all- and hated that I never would.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“They had survived, when so many had not. And no one ­else could understand what it was like to bear it, unless they had lost as much.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Because hers was not a story of darkness.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Hold on, the riders told the world. Hold on.”
― 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

“He moved to sniff some white-and-yellow flowers.
A nightmare. This was a nightmare. “You can’t really like flowers.”
Again those dark eyes shifted to her. Blinked once.
I most certainly do, he seemed to say.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“He'd devoured the goat in two bites, then gone back to enjoying the wildflowers.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“She would remake the world - remake it for them, those she had loved with this glorious, burning heart;”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Aelin of the wildfire.”
― 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