kady

“I am not sure I trust you."
"You can trust me with your life, My King."
"But not with my wine, obviously. Give it back.”
― Megan Whalen Turner, The King of Attolia

“Your Majesty, is it true that your cousins held you down in a water cache? Is it also true that they wouldn't let you out until you agreed to repeat insults about your own family?"
"I could send you to ask them."
"It would be a long trip, your Majesty. I would much rather hear the answer from you."
"Oh the trip would be much faster than you think. Most of my male cousins are dead."
"Forgive me, Your Majesty, if I offended.”
― Megan Whalen Turner, The King of Attolia

“Hair the color of lemons,'" Rudy read. His fingers touched the words. "You told him about me?"

At first, Liesel could not talk. Perhaps it was the sudden bumpiness of love she felt for him. Or had she always loved him? It's likely. Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to drag her hand across and pull her over. It didn't matter where. Her mouth, her neck, her cheek. Her skin was empty for it, waiting.

Years ago, when they'd raced on a muddy field, Rudy was a hastily assembled set of bones, with a jagged, rocky smile. In the trees this afternoon, he was a giver of bread and teddy bears. He was a triple Hitler Youth athletics champion. He was her best friend. And he was a month from his death.

Of course I told him about you," Liesel said.”
― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

“He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It’s his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry.”
― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief