Zohr Áskellson

“You're a sinister little shit, aren't you?" Victra asks.
"I'm Gold, bitch. What'd you expect? Warm milk and cookies just because I'm pocket sized?”
― Pierce Brown, Golden Son

“Liars make the best promises.”
― Pierce Brown, Golden Son

“He always thinks because I’m reading, I’m not doing anything. There is no greater plague to an introvert than the extroverted.”
― Pierce Brown, Golden Son

“Sevro." I lean forward. "Your eyes..."
He leans in close. "Do you like 'em?"
"Bloodydamn. Did you get Carved?"
"By the best in the business. Do you like 'em?"
"They're bloodydamn marvelous. Fit you like a glove."
He punches his hands together. "Glad you said that. Cuz they're yours."
I blanch. "What?"
"They're yours."
"My what?"
"Your eyes!"
"My eyes..."
"Do you want the eyes back?" Sevro asks, suddenly worried. "I can give them back."
"No!" I say. "It's just I forgot how crazy you are."
"Oh." He laughs and slaps my shoulder. "Good. I thought it might be something serious. So I'm prime keeping them?"
"Finders keepers," I say with a shrug.”
― Pierce Brown, Morning Star