Lindsey Bell > Lindsey's Quotes

“Stubborn, snarly male.”
― Anne Bishop, The Black Jewels Trilogy: Daughter of the Blood, Heir to the Shadows, Queen of the Darkness

“There are some questions that shouldn't be asked until a person is mature enough to appreciate the answers.”
― Anne Bishop, Daughter of the Blood

“Everything has a price.”
― Anne Bishop

“Do you always ask me the same questions you ask him?"

"It depends on whether or not I get an answer.”
― Anne Bishop, Daughter of the Blood

“When a man wears his pants that tight, they tend to pinch his balls, and that tends to pinch his temper.”
― Anne Bishop, Queen of the Darkness

“Words lie. Blood doesn't.”
― Anne Bishop, Heir to the Shadows

“Mother Night and May The Darkness Be Merciful!”
― Anne Bishop, Daughter of the Blood

“She was the most painful, most glorious dance of his life”
― Anne Bishop, Heir to the Shadows

“Daemon had written: "What do you do when she asks a question no man would give a child an answer to?"

Saetan had replied: "Hope you're obliging enough to answer it for me. However, if you're backed into a corner, refer her to me. I've become accustomed to being shocked.”
― Anne Bishop, Daughter of the Blood

“But wouldn't it be lovely to watch two people fall in love?”
― Anne Bishop, The Shadow Queen

“Once, he’d been the Seducer, the Executioner, the High Priest of the Hourglass, the Prince of the Darkness, the High Lord of Hell.

Once, he’d been Consort to Cassandra, the great Black-Jeweled, Black Widow Queen, the last Witch to walk the Realms.

Once, he’d been the only Black-Jeweled Warlord Prince in the history of the Blood, feared for his temper and the power he wielded.

Once, he’d been the only male who was a Black Widow.

Once, he’d ruled the Dhemlan Territory in the Realm of Terreille and her sister Territory in Kaeleer, the Shadow Realm. He’d been the only male ever to rule without answering to a Queen and, except for Witch, the only member of the Blood to rule Territories in two Realms.

Once, he’d been married to Hekatah, an aristo Black Widow Priestess from one of Hayll’s Hundred Families.

Once, he’d raised two sons, Mephis and Peyton. He’d played games with them, told them stories, read to them, healed their skinned knees and broken hearts, taught them Craft and Blood Law, showered them with his love of the land as well as music, art, and literature, encouraged them to look with eager eyes upon all that the Realms had to offer—not to conquer but to learn. He’d taught them to dance for a social occasion and to dance for the glory of Witch. He’d taught them how to be Blood.

But that was a long, long time ago.”
― Anne Bishop, Daughter of the Blood

“Lucivar winced. "She guzzled half the flask — and it wasn't one of his home brews, it was the concoction you created."

Jaenelle’s eyes widened. “You let her drink a ‘gravedigger’?”

“No no no,” Wilhelmina said, shaking her head. “You shouldn’t ever drink a gravedigger until he’s had a bath.” She smiled placidly when Jaenelle and Lucivar just stared at her.

“Mother Night,” Lucivar muttered.

“Do you know that song?” Wilhelmina asked Jaenelle.”
― Anne Bishop, Queen of the Darkness

“Dancing was the only activity he enjoyed with a woman, and he regretted that court dancing was no longer in vogue. If you want to bed a woman, do it in the bedroom. If you want to seduce her, do it in the dance.”
― Anne Bishop, Daughter of the Blood

“Seven hundred years ago, Tersa had told [Daemon] the living myth was coming. Seven hundred years of waiting, watching, searching, hoping. Seven hundred heartbreaking, exhausting years. He refused to give up, refused to wonder if she’d been mistaken, refused because his heart yearned too much for that strange, wonderful, terrifying creature called Witch.

In his soul, he knew her. In his dreams, he saw her. He never envisioned a face. It always blurred if he tried to focus on it. But he could see her dressed in a robe made of dark, transparent spidersilk, a robe that slid from her shoulders as she moved, a robe that opened and closed as she walked, revealing bare, night-cool skin. And there would be a scent in the room that was her, a scent he would wake to, burying his face in her pillow after she was up and attending her own concerns.

It wasn’t lust—the body’s fire paled in comparison to the embrace of mind to mind—although physical pleasure was part of it. He wanted to touch her, feel the texture of her skin, taste the warmth of her. He wanted to caress her until they both burned. He wanted to weave his life into hers until there was no telling where one began and the other ended. He wanted to put his arms around her, strong and protecting, and find himself protected; possess her and be possessed; dominate her and be dominated. He wanted that Other, that shadow across his life, who made him ache with every breath while he stumbled among these feeble women who meant nothing to him and never could.

Simply, he believed that he had been born to be her lover.”
― Anne Bishop, Daughter of the Blood

“I lost nothing I regret losing," Witch said softly. "I am what I want to be.”
― Anne Bishop, Dreams Made Flesh

“No, Daemon,” Jaenelle said gently, looking up at him with her ancient, wistful, haunted eyes. “Everyone knows I’m different. It just doesn’t matter to some—and it matters a lot to others.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “Why am I different?” Daemon looked away. Oh, child. How could he explain that she was dreams made flesh? That for some of them, she made the blood in their veins sing? That she was a kind of magic the Blood hadn’t seen in so very, very long? “What does the Priest say?” Jaenelle sniffed. “He says growing up is hard work.” Daemon smiled sympathetically. “It is that.”
― Anne Bishop, Daughter of the Blood

“How does a large slice of fresh bread soaked in beef broth sound?" About as edible as the table leg. "Do I have any choices?" "No."
"Sounds wonderful.”
― Anne Bishop, Heir to the Shadows

“Yes, Smoke told him reluctantly, Lucivar had cried. Heart pain. Caught-in-a-trap pain. The Lady had petted and petted, sung and sung. It had been more than a dream, then. In one of the dreamscapes Black Widows spun so well, Jaenelle had met the boy he had been and had drawn the poison from the soul wound. He had wept for the boy, for the things he hadn’t been allowed to do, for the things he hadn’t been allowed to be. But he didn’t weep for the man he’d become.

“Ah, Lucivar,” she’d said regretfully as they’d walked through the dreamscape. “I can heal the scars on your body, but I can’t heal the scars of the soul. Not yours, not mine. You have to learn to live with them. You have to choose to live beyond them.”
― Anne Bishop, Heir to the Shadows

“And what do you care anyway ? You don't want to marry me."
"I do want to marry you !" She stamped her foot in frustration. "If there was a Priestess standing here, I'd marry you right this minute !"
"She offered to marry him," Merry said.
"In front of witnesses," Jaenelle added.
Lucivar pointed a finger at Marian and snarled, "I accept."
"And he accepted," Merry said gleefully.
"In front of witnesses," Jaenelle added. "How soon can the Priestess get here ?”
― Anne Bishop, Dreams Made Flesh

“I can do this,” [Daemon] crooned, slowly circling around her. “I can keep Dorothea and Hekatah off-balance enough to keep the others safe and also prevent those Ladies from giving the orders to send the Terreillean armies into Kaeleer. I can buy you seventy-two hours, Jaenelle. But it’s going to cost me because I’m going to do things I may never be forgiven for, so I want something in return.” He could taste her slight bafflement before she said, “All right.”

“I don’t want to wear the Consort’s ring anymore.” A slash of pain, quickly stifled.

“All right.”

“I want a wedding ring in its place.” A flash of joy, immediately followed by sorrow. She smiled at him at the same time her eyes filled with tears. “It would be wonderful.” She meant that.”
― Anne Bishop, Queen of the Darkness

“Too much power. Too much. Even the Blood weren’t meant to wield this much power. Even Witch had never controlled this much power. This one did. This young Queen. This daughter of his soul. With effort, Saetan steadied his breathing. He could accept her. He could love her. Or he could fear her. The decision was his, and whatever he decided here, now, he would have to live with.”
― Anne Bishop, Daughter of the Blood

“She looked down at him, smiling with exasperated amusement. *Stubborn, snarly male.*

*Stubbornness is a much-maligned quality,* he panted as he climbed toward her. Her silvery, velvet-coated laugh filled the land. Then he finally got a good look at her. He sank to his knees. *I owe you a debt, Lady.*

She shook her head. *The debt is mine, not yours.*

*I failed you,* he said bitterly, looking at her wasted body.

*No, Daemon,* Jaenelle replied softly. *I failed you. You asked me to heal the crystal chalice and return to the living world. And I did. But I don’t think I ever forgave my body for being the instrument that was used to try to destroy me, and I became its cruelest torturer. For that I’m sorry because you treasured that part of me.*

*No, I treasured all of you. I love you, Witch. I always will. You’re everything I’d dreamed you would be.*

She smiled at him. *And I—* She shuddered, pressed her hand against her chest. *Come. There’s little time left.* She fled through the rocks, out of sight before he could move. He hurried after her, following the glittering trail, gasping as he felt a crushing weight descend on him. *Daemon.* Her voice came back to him, faint and pain-filled. *If the body is going to survive, I can’t stay any longer.* He fought against the weight.

*Jaenelle!*

*You have to take this in slow stages. Rest there now. Rest, Daemon. I’ll mark the trail for you. Please follow it. I’ll be waiting for you at the end.*

*JAENELLE!* A wordless whisper. His name spoken like a caress. Then silence.”
― Anne Bishop, Heir to the Shadows

“I don’t think you’ve ever realized how strong, how necessary the bond is between Warlord Princes and Queens. We need you to stay whole. That’s why we serve. That’s why all Blood males serve.”

“But it’s always seemed so unfair that a Queen can lay claim to a man and control every aspect of his life if she chooses to without him having any say in the matter.” Saetan laughed.

“Who says a man has no choice? Haven’t you ever noticed how many men who are invited to serve in a court decline the privilege? No, perhaps you haven’t. You’ve had too many other things occupying your time, and that sort of thing is done very quietly.” He paused and shook his head, smiling. “Let me tell you an open secret, my darling little witch. You don’t choose us. We choose you.”

Jaenelle thought about this and growled, “Lucivar’s never going to give that damn Ring back, is he?”
― Anne Bishop, Heir to the Shadows

“He kissed the spot where her neck and shoulder joined. The first kiss was light and chaste. With the second kiss, he used his teeth to hold her still while the tip of his tongue caressed and tasted her skin. He could feel her heart pounding, feel each breathy pant. Leaving a trail of soft kisses up her neck, he finally whispered in her ear, “You’re not too young anymore.”
― Anne Bishop, Queen of the Darkness

“It is easier to kill than to heal. It is easier to destroy than to preserve. It is easier to tear down than to build. Those who feed on destructive emotions and ambitions and deny the responsibilities that are the price of wielding power can bring down everything you care for and would protect. Be on guard, always.”
― Anne Bishop, Heir to the Shadows

“Because you’re going to help me train a seven-year-old Witch who’s got the raw power right now to turn us both into dust and yet”—he dropped the shoe onto the chair—“is abysmal at basic Craft.”
― Anne Bishop, Daughter of the Blood

“Sometimes I ask lots of people the same question.” His head hurt. “What do you do if you don’t get the same answer?” “Think about it.”
― Anne Bishop, Daughter of the Blood

“Forgiveness doesn't work that way. You may want to forgive, but you can't do it yet. Forgiving someone can take weeks, months, years. Sometimes it takes a lifetime.”
― Anne Bishop, Heir to the Shadows