Rania

“You asked me if you could see colours again, Salama. If we deserve to see them. I think we do. I think you can. There's too little of it in death. In pain. But that's not the only thing in the world. That's not all that Syria has. Syria was once the center of the world. Inventions and discoveries were made here; they built the world. Our history is in the Al-Zahrawi Palace, in our mosques, in our earth”
― Zoulfa Katouh, As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow

“I stare at him for a few more minutes, my heart expanding with love for him.
We'll be OK,' I whisper, letting the night capture my wish. We're owed that at least. A life of not scanning rooftops, of not being relieved the ceiling didn't cave in on us during the night.
He and I are owed a love story that doesn't end in tragedy.”
― Zoulfa Katouh, As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow

“To the High Queen of Elfhame,

Above me is the same silvery moon that shines down on you. Looking at it makes me recall the glint of your blade pressed against my throat and other romantic moments.

I do not know what keeps you from returning
to the High Court—whether it is vexation
with me, or whether, having spent time in
the mortal world, you have come to believe
that a life free of the Folk is better than one
ruling over them.

In my most wretched hours, I believe you will
never come back.

Why would you, save for your ambition?
You have always known exactly what I am
and seen all my failings, all my weaknesses
and scars. I flattered myself that at moments
you had feelings for me other than contempt,
but even were that true, they would be but
watered wine beside the feast of your other,
greater desires.

And yet my heart is buried with you in the
strange soil of the mortal world, as it was
drowned with you in the cold waters of the
Undersea.

It was yours before I could admit it, and yours
it shall ever remain.

Cardan”
― Holly Black, The Queen of Nothing

“Do you see the colours, Salama?' Kenan whispers.

The sunset is gorgeous, but it pales in comparison to him. He's drenched in the dying day's glow, a kaleidoscope of shades dancing on his face. Pink, orange, yellow, purple, red. Finally settling into an azure blue. It reminds me of Layla's painting. A colour so stark it would stain my fingers were I to touch it.

As the sun sinks, in those few precious moments when the world is caught between day and night, something shifts between Kenan and me. 'Yes,' I breathe. 'Yes.”
― Zoulfa Katouh, As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow