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“You said you didn’t care what I thought. Or what I did. Or if I died, if I’m not mistaken."
“I lied! And you know I lied, you stupid bastard!”
― The Assassin's Blade
“I lied! And you know I lied, you stupid bastard!”
― The Assassin's Blade
“You want to know what price I asked for forgiving Arobynn, Celaena?" Sam stood so still the he might have been a statue. "My price was his oath that he'd never lay a hand on you again. I told him I'd forgive him in exchange for that.”
― The Assassin's Blade
― The Assassin's Blade
“My name is Celaena Sardothien," she whispered, "and I will not be afraid.”
― The Assassin's Blade
― The Assassin's Blade
“I love you,” he repeated, shaking her again. “I have for years. But if I asked you to pick, you’d choose Arobynn, and I. Can’t. Take. It.”
“You’re a damned idiot,” she breathed grabbing the front of his tunic. “You’re a moron and an ass and a damned idiot." He looked like she had hit him. But she went on, and grasped both sides of his face. “Because I’d pick you.”
― The Assassin's Blade
“You’re a damned idiot,” she breathed grabbing the front of his tunic. “You’re a moron and an ass and a damned idiot." He looked like she had hit him. But she went on, and grasped both sides of his face. “Because I’d pick you.”
― The Assassin's Blade
“How many loves do you get in a lifetime?
How many people do you get to call yours? There are all sorts of loves in this world, not all of them, but most of them are beautiful. Some are old, some noble, some brave. Others are dishonourable and weak and make you so by association. Some are a low whisper on a sombre night, some are maddening. Some you can’t ignore—they slow-burn inside of you, never quite going out completely but you’re too scared to dare try to fan that flame. Some loves you pretend you don’t feel, even when you can, even when you know you do, even if he’s the first thing you think of in the morning, even if he’s like a match in the darkened room of your heart—because loving something how you love him is a painful love that puts rocks in your pockets and melancholy in your eyeballs and if time has taught you anything it’s that it doesn’t matter. You’ll love him forever anyway.”
― Magnolia Parks
How many people do you get to call yours? There are all sorts of loves in this world, not all of them, but most of them are beautiful. Some are old, some noble, some brave. Others are dishonourable and weak and make you so by association. Some are a low whisper on a sombre night, some are maddening. Some you can’t ignore—they slow-burn inside of you, never quite going out completely but you’re too scared to dare try to fan that flame. Some loves you pretend you don’t feel, even when you can, even when you know you do, even if he’s the first thing you think of in the morning, even if he’s like a match in the darkened room of your heart—because loving something how you love him is a painful love that puts rocks in your pockets and melancholy in your eyeballs and if time has taught you anything it’s that it doesn’t matter. You’ll love him forever anyway.”
― Magnolia Parks
Melanie’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Melanie’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
477 books
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75 friends
492 books
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322 friends
94 books
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4 friends
326 books
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4 friends
120 books
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5 friends
143 books
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12 friends
94 books
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7 friends
26 books
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1 friend
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