Diana Quotes

“Caine met Diana's disbelieving gaze and laughed aloud.
"Why so gloomy? Doesn't every little girl want to grow up to be a queen?"
"Princess," Diana said.
"So, you got a promotion," Caine said.”
― Michael Grant, Plague

“He didn't mind if she hated him. They were never going to be a cute romantic couple like Sam and Astrid. Clean-cut, righteous, all that. The perfect couple. He and Diana were the imperfect couple.”
― Michael Grant, Plague

“Being with Henry doesn't mean you have to give up who you are. Henry doesn't define you.”
― Aimee Carter, Goddess Interrupted

“You dance differently when you know you won't live forever.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Wonder Woman: Warbringer

“Desire urges me on, while fear bridals me.”
― Giordano Bruno, The Heroic Enthusiasts - (Gli Eroici Furori) - An Ethical Poem

“Paulinus, everyone knows. Say the word, and I'll run the bitch over with my chariot”
― Kate Quinn, Mistress of Rome

“It’s only a scratch, don’t cut my arm off!”
― Carrie Vaughn, Steel

“I keeled over sideways.
The world turned fluffy, bleached of all color. Nothing hurt anymore.
I was dimly aware of Diana’s face hovering over me, Meg and Hazel peering over the goddess’s shoulders.
“He’s almost gone,” Diana said.
Then I was gone. My mind slipped into a pool of cold, slimy darkness.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” My sister’s voice woke me rudely.
I’d been so comfortable, so nonexistent.
Life surged back into me—cold, sharp, and unfairly painful. Diana’s face came into focus. She looked annoyed, which seemed on-brand for her.
As for me, I felt surprisingly good. The pain in my gut was gone. My muscles didn’t burn. I could breathe without difficulty. I must have slept for decades.
“H-how long was I out?” I croaked.
“Roughly three seconds,” she said. “Now, get up, drama queen.”
She helped me to my feet. I felt a bit unsteady, but I was delighted to find that my legs had any strength at all. My skin was no longer gray. The lines of infection were gone. The Arrow of Dodona was still in my hand, though he had gone silent, perhaps in awe of the goddess’s presence. Or perhaps he was still trying to get the taste of “Sweet Caroline” out of his imaginary mouth.
I beamed at my sister. It was so good to see her disapproving I-can’t-believe-you’re-my-brother frown again. “I love you,” I said, my voice hoarse with emotion.
She blinked, clearly unsure what to do with this information. “You really have changed.”
“I missed you!”
“Y-yes, well. I’m here now. Even Dad couldn’t argue with a Sibylline invocation from Temple Hill.”
“It worked, then!” I grinned at Hazel and Meg. “It worked!”
“Yeah,” Meg said wearily. “Hi, Artemis.”
“Diana,” my sister corrected. “But hello, Meg.” For her, my sister had a smile. “You’ve done well, young warrior.”
Meg blushed. She kicked at the scattered zombie dust on the floor and shrugged. “Eh.”
I checked my stomach, which was easy, since my shirt was in tatters. The bandages had vanished, along with the festering wound. Only a thin white scar remained. “So…I’m healed?” My flab told me she hadn’t restored me to my godly self. Nah, that would have been too much to expect.
Diana raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m not the goddess of healing, but I’m still a goddess. I think I can take care of my little brother’s boo-boos.”
“Little brother?”
She smirked.”
― Rick Riordan, The Tyrant’s Tomb

“Maybe it feels easier that way, just being invisible instead of always worrying what people think of you.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Wonder Woman: Warbringer

“Meg slashed through the last of Tarquin’s minions. That was a good thing, I thought distantly. I didn’t want her to die, too. Hazel stabbed Tarquin in the chest. The Roman king fell, howling in pain, ripping the sword hilt from Hazel’s grip. He collapsed against the information desk, clutching the blade with his skeletal hands.
Hazel stepped back, waiting for the zombie king to dissolve. Instead, Tarquin struggled to his feet, purple gas flickering weakly in his eye sockets.
“I have lived for millennia,” he snarled. “You could not kill me with a thousand tons of stone, Hazel Levesque. You will not kill me with a sword.”
I thought Hazel might fly at him and rip his skull off with her bare hands. Her rage was so palpable I could smell it like an approaching storm. Wait…I did smell an approaching storm, along with other forest scents: pine needles, morning dew on wildflowers, the breath of hunting dogs.
A large silver wolf licked my face. Lupa? A hallucination? No…a whole pack of the beasts had trotted into the store and were now sniffing the bookshelves and the piles of zombie dust.
Behind them, in the doorway, stood a girl who looked about twelve, her eyes silver-yellow, her auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was dressed for the hunt in a shimmering gray frock and leggings, a white bow in her hand. Her face was beautiful, serene, and as cold as the winter moon.
She nocked a silver arrow and met Hazel’s eyes, asking permission to finish her kill. Hazel nodded and stepped aside. The young girl aimed at Tarquin.
“Foul undead thing,” she said, her voice hard and bright with power. “When a good woman puts you down, you had best stay down.”
Her arrow lodged in the center of Tarquin’s forehead, splitting his frontal bone. The king stiffened. The tendrils of purple gas sputtered and dissipated. From the arrow’s point of entry, a ripple of fire the color of Christmas tinsel spread across Tarquin’s skull and down his body, disintegrating him utterly. His gold crown, the silver arrow, and Hazel’s sword all dropped to the floor.
I grinned at the newcomer. “Hey, Sis.”
― Rick Riordan, The Tyrant’s Tomb

“This young woman,” said Diana, “was responsible for the destruction of the Triumvirate’s fleet.”
“Well, I had a lot of help,” Lavinia said.
“I don’t understand,” I said, turning to Lavinia. “You made all those mortars malfunction?”
Lavinia looked offended. “Well, yeah. Somebody had to stop the fleet. I did pay attention during siege-weapon class and ship-boarding class. It wasn’t that hard. All it took was a little fancy footwork.”
Hazel finally managed to pick her jaw off the pavement. “Wasn’t that hard?”
“We were motivated! The fauns and dryads did great.” She paused, her expression momentarily clouding, as if she remembered something unpleasant. “Um…besides, the Nereids helped a lot. There was only a skeleton crew aboard each yacht. Not, like, actual skeletons, but—you know what I mean. Also, look!”
She pointed proudly at her feet, which were now adorned with the shoes of Terpsichore from Caligula’s private collection.
“You mounted an amphibious assault on an enemy fleet,” I said, “for a pair of shoes.”
Lavinia huffed. “Not just for the shoes, obviously.” She tap-danced a routine that would’ve made Savion Glover proud. “Also to save the camp, and the nature spirits, and Michael Kahale’s commandos.”
Hazel held up her hands to stop the overflow of information. “Wait. Not to be a killjoy—I mean, you did an amazing thing!—but you still deserted your post, Lavinia. I certainly didn’t give you permission —”
“I was acting on praetor’s orders,” Lavinia said haughtily. “In fact, Reyna helped. She was knocked out for a while, healing, but she woke up in time to instill us with the power of Bellona, right before we boarded those ships. Made us all strong and stealthy and stuff.”
Hazel asked, “Is it true about Lavinia acting on your orders?”
Reyna glanced at our pink-haired friend. The praetor’s pained expression said something like, I respect you a lot, but I also hate you for being right.
“Yes,” Reyna managed to say. “Plan L was my idea. Lavinia and her friends acted on my orders. They performed heroically.”
Lavinia beamed. “See? I told you.”
The assembled crowd murmured in amazement, as if, after a day full of wonders, they had finally witnessed something that could not be explained.”
― Rick Riordan, The Tyrant’s Tomb

“Think and stay alive. - Phillipe de Clermont”
― Deborah Harkness, Shadow of Night

“Recurrent memories of Henry Schoonmaker were the most exciting thing to happen in her conscious mind these days.”
― Anna Godbersen, Rumors

“Diana was the goddess of the hunt and of all newborn creatures. Women prayed to her for happiness in marriage and childbirth, but her strength was so great that even the warlike Amazons worshipped her.
No man was worthy of her love, until powerful Orion won her affection. She was about to marry him, but her twin brother, Apollo, was angered that she had fallen in love. One day, Apollo saw Orion in the sea with only his head above the water. Apollo tricked Diana by challenging her to hit the mark bobbing in the distant sea. Diana shot her arrow with deadly aim. Later, the waves rolled dead Orion to shore.
Lamenting her fatal blunder, Diana placed Orion in the starry sky. Every night, she would lift her torch in the dark to see her beloved. Her light gave comfort to all, and soon she became known as a goddess of the moon.
It was whispered that if a girl-childwas born in the wilderness, delivered by the great goddess Diana, she would be known for her fierce protection of the innocent.”
― Lynne Ewing, Night Shade

“Is that cat dead? Diana demanded.
''No he isn't,'' Emma cooed and kissed his furry face. Church went limper. ''He just hates affection”
― Cassandra Clare, Queen of Air and Darkness

“How can you know there are other people like you, when you've never had a name to call yourself?”
― Cassandra Clare, Lord of Shadows

“- Futebol não tem lógica.”
― Jô Soares

“You can't comfort the afflicted without afflicting the comfortable.”
― Lady Diana, The Mirage of Love

“Diana wept a tear after we made love and said, My Earthly darling, I must bid you farewell…
She could have been my wife,
But her time, I didn't dare wish to waste.”
― Jimi Hendrix, Cherokee Mist: The Lost Writings

“Don’t cry. Carry what you love about me with you; leave the pain behind.”
― Lauren Kate

“She believes that they are caught in an emotional timewarp without the necessary vision to appreciate the changes that have take place in society.”
― Andrew Morton, Diana: Her True Story in Her Own Words

“He did. I swear it. Baldwin ordered him to leave or face the same fate as the Impaler. You should have seen Baldwin’s face. The devil himself wouldn’t have disobeyed your brother.”
― Deborah Harkness, Shadow of Night

“You saw the way everyone looked at him? And when I asked for nominations, his was the first name mentioned. I don’t like it, his being Nurse Temple’s son. That’s a bad coincidence. Get a read on him. If he has the power, we may not be able to wait to deal with him.”
― Michael Grant

“Has Orc shown up here?” But neither Caine nor Diana answered. Both were staring at Drake, who sauntered toward them, all his cockiness restored, no longer the ragged scarecrow who had wept when he saw the melted stump of his hand lying on the tile floor. “Drake,” Caine said. “We thought you were dead.”
“I’m back,” Drake said. “And better than ever.”
The red tentacle unwrapped itself from around his waist, like a python releasing its victim.
“Like it, Diana?” Drake asked.
The arm, that impossible bloodred snake, coiled above Drake’s head, swirled, writhed. And then, so fast that the human eye could barely register the movement, it snapped like a bullwhip.
The sound was a loud crack. A mini–sonic boom.
Diana cried out in pain. Stunned, she stared at the cut in her blouse and the trickle of red from her shoulder.
“Sorry,” Drake said with no attempt at sincerity. “I’m still working on my aim.”
“Drake,” Caine said and, despite the blood, despite Diana’s wound, he grinned. “Welcome back.”
“I brought some help,” Drake said. He extended his left hand, and Caine shook it awkwardly with his right. “So. When do we go take down Sam Temple?”
― Michael Grant

“Drake's whip hand spun Diana like a top.
She cried out. That sound, her cry, pierced Caine like an arrow.
Diana staggered and almost righted herself, but Drake was too quick, too ready.
His second strike yanked her through the air. She flew and then fell.
“Catch her!” Caine was yelling to himself. Seeing her arc as she fell. Seeing where she would hit. His hands came up, he could use his power, he could catch her, save her. But too slow.
Diana fell. Her head smashed against a jutting point of rock. She made a sound like a dropped pumpkin.
Caine froze.
The fuel rod, forgotten, fell from the air with a shattering crash.
It fell within ten feet of the mine shaft opening. It landed atop a boulder shaped like the prow of a ship.
It bent, cracked, rolled off the boulder, and crashed heavily in the dirt.
Drake ran straight at Caine, his whip snapping. But Jack stumbled in between them, yelling, “The uranium! The uranium!”
The radiation meter in his pocket was counting clicks so fast, it became a scream.
Drake piled into Jack, and the two of them went tumbling.
Caine stood, staring in horror at Diana. Diana did not move. Did not move. No snarky remark. No smart-ass joke.
“No!” Caine cried.
“No!”
Drake was up, disentangling himself with an angry curse from Jack.
“Diana,” Caine sobbed.
Drake didn’t rely on his whip hand now, too far away to use it before Caine could take him down. He raised his gun. The barrel shot flame and slugs, BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM.
Inaccurate, but on full automatic, Drake had time. He swung the gun to his right and the bullets swooped toward where Caine stood like he was made of stone.
Then the muzzle flash disappeared in an explosion of green-white light that turned night into day. The shaft of light missed its target. But it was close enough that the muzzle of Drake’s gun wilted and drooped and the rocks behind Drake cracked from the blast of heat.
Drake dropped the gun. And now it was Drake’s turn to stare in stark amazement. “You!”
Sam wobbled atop the rise. Quinn caught him as he staggered.
Now Caine snapped back to the present, seeing his brother, seeing the killing light.
“No,” Caine said. “No, Sam: He’s mine.”
He raised a hand, and Sam went flying backward along with Quinn.
“The fuel rod!” Jack was yelling, over and over. “It’s going to kill us all. Oh, God, we may already be dead!”
Drake rushed at Caine. His eyes were wide with fear. Knowing he wouldn’t make it. Knowing he was not fast enough.
Caine raised his hand, and the fuel rod seemed to jump off the ground.
A javelin.
A spear. He held it poised. Pointed straight at Drake.
Caine reached with his other hand, extending the telekinetic power to hold Drake immobilized.
Drake held up his human hand, a placating gesture. “Caine…you don’t want to…not over some girl. She was a witch, she was…”
Drake, unable to run, a human target. The fuel rod aimed at him like a Spartan’s spear.
Caine threw the fuel rod. Tons of steel and lead and uranium.
Straight at Drake.”
― Michael Grant, Hunger

“If you love me as I love you Nothing but death can part us two.”
― L.M. Montgomery

“And how do you plan on appeasing the spirits of the dead if you do go the land of the dead?"
Jimena looked at her strangely. Was she serious? "What do you mean?"
"You're going to their house. What do you have to offer them so they will let you leave?"
Jimena thought a long moment. What could the dead possibly want from her? And then she remembered her grandmother's oraciones for her grandfather. "My prayers."
"Prayers?" Jimena could sense the woman's disappointment. "I remember a time when a blood sacrifice was made. People slaughtered the pride of their herds."
"I don't have any cattle or sheep," Jimena offered. "I live in the city."
The woman snorted. "No one really believes in the mythical world anymore. Once people poured libations for the dead."
"Libations?"
"Milk and honey, mellow wine, and water sprinkled with glistening barley. Prayers? Well, I guess that is a modern equivalent. I suppose prayers will have to do.”
― Lynne Ewing, Night Shade

“Neptune's bounty was followed by that of Diana. I had staged a "hunt" to take place while the diners ate. Several of the bigger slaves were dressed like bears, and hunters with bows chased them playfully around the couches while nymphs tried to hinder their progress. They ran carefully around the slaves serving trays of pork cracklings, mushrooms marinated in wine, stuffed dormice, and figs soaked in milk and honey.”
― Crystal King, Feast of Sorrow

“I think people make their names nice or ugly by what they are themselves.”
― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea

“To the Priory of Sion, the secret organization described in the novel “The DaVinci Code,” the Bear was an animal of the Goddess Diana. The Merovingian kings, from their founder Merovee to Clovis (who converted to Christianity in 496) were kings who worshipped the Goddess Diana.”
― Laurence Galian, The Sun at Midnight: The Revealed Mysteries of the Ahlul Bayt Sufis