Ashleigh

“You can't save everyone and leave yourself lost, October. It isn't fair. Not to you and not to the people who care about you."

"I'm not lost Tybalt," I said. It was oddly hard to meet his eyes now that they registered as human. His irises were supposed to be malachite green, not muddy hazel, and his pupils were supposed to be oval, not round. "I know exactly where I am."

A smile crossed his face. "If I believed that, I would walk away and never darken your door again. I can forgive you your foolishness only because I know how lost you are. But one day, you'll have to come back home. When you do, I hope you'll find me waiting.”
― Seanan McGuire, Ashes of Honor

“Whoever was responsible for naming the fae races should really have put more thought into making them pronounceable when drunk.”
― Seanan McGuire, A Local Habitation

“He's going to be okay," said Quentin. "He has to. He's Tybalt. You'd be all weird and irritating if he wasn't around."

"Weird and irritating?" I raised an eyebrow. "What gives you that idea?"

Quentin shrugged. "That's already how you get when he isn't around.”
― Seanan McGuire, Ashes of Honor

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to visit right now. Maybe you can come back later? I’ll bake you some cookies . . .” Okay, that was it. I hadn’t had a chance to use the kitchen for anything more elaborate than coffee and fried eggs, and I’d be damned if some invading monster was going to beat me to it. I stepped into the living room, bat still held in front of me like a poor man’s broadsword. “You are not using my kitchen.”
― Seanan McGuire, Rosemary and Rue