Kat Haynes

“Hyacinth,” Lady Bridgerton said in a vaguely disapproving voice, “do try to speak in complete sentences.”
Hyacinth looked at her mother with a surprised expression. “Biscuits. Are. Good.” She cocked her head to the side. “Noun. Verb. Adjective.”
“Hyacinth.”
“Noun. Verb. Adjective.” Colin said, wiping a crumb from his grinning face. “Sentence. Is. Correct.”
― Julia Quinn, Romancing Mister Bridgerton

“Still,” I said, “I am sorry. But I was desperate to rescue my sister.”
“I understand,” the sagging dragon assured me. He explained, “I, too, had a sister, once.”
The past tense didn't escape me. “What happened to her?” I asked, feeling we were connected, two of a kind after all, sharing similar personal tragedies.
“I had to eat her,” the dragon said, “to keep her from stealing my gold.”
― Vivian Vande Velde, Deadly Pink

“He had everything a dream boy should have. Back, front, sides, Everything. A head.”
― Louise Rennison, Withering Tights

“Uncle," she said. "Let me explain what will happen the instant one of your men makes a move toward me. Let's say, for instance, one of your archers lets an arrow fly. You've not come to many of my practices, Uncle. You haven't seen me dodge arrows; but your archers have. If one or your archers releases an arrow, I'll drop to the floor. The arrow will doubtless hit one of your guards. The sword and the dagger of that guard will be in my hands before anyone in the room has time to realize what's happened. A fight will break out with the guards; but only seven or eight of them can surround me at once, Uncle, and seven or eight is nothing to me. As I kill the guards I'll take their daggers and begin throwing them into the hearts of your archers, who of course will have no sighting on me once the brawl with the guards has broken out. I'll get out of the room alive, Uncle, but most of the rest of you will be dead. Of course, this is only what will happen if I wait for one of your men to make a move. I could move first. I could attack a guard, steal his dagger, and hurl it into your chest this instant.”
― Kristin Cashore, Graceling