Isa

“You look like a Turner painting and I want to learn your textures with my fingertips. You are the most fascinating thing in this beautiful house. I'd like to introduce my fists to whoever taught you to stop talking about the things that interest you.”
― Freya Marske, A Marvellous Light

“There was so much I should have told you. I just didn't have time. I didn't know. I didn't know I'd have to say: A sword doesn't hold an edge on its own, you sack of Ninth House garbage. I didn't know I'd have to say, if you dip a sword into melty bone, the metal gets more pitted than an iron mine, you cross-patched necromantic shit.

I think the main thing I should have said was, You sawed open your skull rather than be beholden to someone. You turned your brain into soup to escape anything less than 100 percent freedom. You put me in a box and buried me rather than give up your own goddamned agenda.

Harrowhark, I gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it.

Actually, scratch that, the main thing I should have said was, SQUATS ARE A START, OR A COUPLE OF STAR JUMPS, THEY'RE NOT DIFFICULT.”
― Tamsyn Muir, Harrow the Ninth

“As I dithered, Pyrrha sandblasted me with the calm, "Your mother would've picked the bullet. "
"Yes, well, jail for Mother, " I said.”
― Tamsyn Muir, Harrow the Ninth

“But Gideon was experiencing one powerful emotion: being sick of everyone's shit. She unsheathed her sword. She slid her gauntlet over her hand, and tightened the wrist straps with her teeth. And she looked over her shoulder at Harrowhark, who was apparently breaking out of a blue funk to experience her own dominant emotion of "oh no, not again." Gideon silently willed her necromancer to put her knucklebones where her mouth was and, for the first time in her life - for the first real time - do what Gideon needed her to do.

And Harrowhark rose to the occasion like an evening star.”
― Tamsyn Muir, Gideon the Ninth