Celaena Sardothien

“Because the terrible thing about becoming an adult is being forced to realize that absolutely nobody cares about us, we have to deal with everything ourselves now, find out how the whole world works. Work and pay bills, use dental floss and get to meetings on time, stand in line and fill out forms, come to grips with cables and put furniture together, change tires on the car and charge the phone and switch the coffee machine off and not forget to sign the kids up for swimming lessons. We open our eyes in the morning and life is just waiting to tip a fresh avalanche of "Don't Forget!"s and "Remember!"s over us. We don't have time to think or breathe, we just wake up and start digging through the heap, because there will be another one dumped on us tomorrow. We look around occasionally, at our place of work or at parents' meetings or out in the street, and realize with horror that everyone else seems to know exactly what they're doing. We're the only ones who have to pretend. Everyone else can afford stuff and has a handle on other stuff and enough energy to deal with even more stuff. And everyone else's children can swim.”
― Fredrik Backman, Anxious People

“You came back for me.”
“I protect my investments.” Investments.
“I’m glad I’m bleeding all over your shirt.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows

“We’re only together because of a deal you made with my father. What’s it to you if my ex shows back up in my life? … Why do you care?”
“I don’t know!” The force of his reply stunned me into silence.
Dante’s granite mask cracked, revealing the torment underneath.
“I don’t know why I care. I just know I do, and I hate it.” Self-loathing coated his voice.
“I hate the idea of you touching anyone else, or anyone else touching you. I hate that other people can make you laugh in a way I can’t. I hate how I feel around you, like you’re the only person that can make me lose control when I. Don’t. Lose Control.”
Every word, every step brought him closer until my back pressed against the wall and the heat of his body enveloped mine.
“But I do.” His voice dropped, turning ragged. “With you.”
― Ana Huang, King of Wrath

“The Arabic term for Gospel, Injil, plays off the original Greek euangelos (“bringing good news”), but with a twist on the Semitic root N-J-L, meaning “opening eyes wide.” The name reflected Jesus’ mission to deliver his people from the bondage of blindly following corrupt clerics by reawakening individual powers of perception.”
― Mohamad Jebara, The Life of the Qur'an: From Eternal Roots to Enduring Legacy