Claire Legrand Quotes

I am going to die, her brain recited calmly. I am going to be stabbed until I am died. How infuriating. I have so much left to do.

I suppose most things in a person's life are good for a while, even if that doesn't last very long. Maybe that is why, even after something has gone wrong, we spend so much time trying to fix it. Because we remember when it wasn't broken.

You cannot shy away from yourself. Look the world in the eye, and it can do nothing to hurt you.

Victoria hated messes. She hated distractions. Friends were the worst distraction of all.

Time's a slippery little jerk, Fin." Dad sounds tired. "Things happen more quickly than you think. One minute you're a kid, and the next minute you're grown up and wondering what the heck happened when you weren't looking.

But how can she change a person like that? said Victoria.
She just can. I'd never have thought before, ever, that I could hate music and want to leave it behind, but now
Lawrence Prewitt, said Victoria. Her voice was shaking, but she stood up and put on such a fierce dazzle that even Donovan seemed to wake up. Don't you dare ever start talking like that again, or when I get out of here, I'll leave you behind with the gofers. Lawrence smiled. I've missed your threats, Vicky.

First you must give it a name," said the snake. "Naming a thing takes away some of its power and gives it to you instead.

What are you? - Rahzavel
I am your doom. - Eliana

When I set the glass back down, I see the prints my sweaty fingers have left behind. I feel a sense of deep, sudden friendship with that smudge.
That is me. My aunts and uncles, my grandparents, my beautiful, beautiful cousins-- I am a smudge on their glass.

It's a strange feeling, when you hear a good piece of music. It starts out kind of shaky, this hot, heavy knot in your chest. At first it's tiny, like a spot of light in a dark room, but then it builds, pouring through you. And the next thing you know, everything from your forehead down to your fingers and toes is on fire. You feel like the hot, heavy knot in your chest is turning into a bubble. It's full of everything good in the world, and if you don't do something
if you don't run or dance or shout to everyone in the world about this music you've just heard
it'll explode.

Right now is all that matters, because right now is what we know. The future is wide open, and the world is full of people who get scared and lie and are sad and happy. That is how it is supposed to be.

We all have darkness inside us, Rielle," he said, his voice rough. "That is what it means to be human.

Being nothing felt quite the same as being something. Maybe she had never been something at all.

This is our fight, Sly Boots, not yours. You're not a witch." "No,

Some say the Queen was frightened in her last moments. But I like to think that she was angry.

She curtsied before the king, the shadow of Saint Katell falling like a sword across her neck.

There was a magnetism to the Mortimer women, and they knew it, and they used it. It was their right, this witchery; they'd given up their souls for it.

How can the world look so perfect when I feel so broken?

...another thing I'm not used to, another thing that makes me feel small and bulky at the same time.

This is the way it is done. This is the way our fathers taught us." [Briggs]

"Your fathers," Val replied, "were full of shit.

We live in a world where good kings die and those foolish enough to hope for something better are killed where they stand.

He was the steady voice in her mind that spoke to her when she didn't feel steady at all.

We are more than what's been done to us. We are more then our anger.

How wonderful a thing it is, to understand someone else without even trying to.

She was night itself reborn on earth, a queen swathed in shadows.

A sword forged true in hammer and flame
Flies sure and swift
A heart forged in battle and strife
Cuts deeper than any blade

Lawrence disappeared the next day, Tuesday, which had always been Victoria's least favorite day of the week because it had no point to it. Monday was the beginning. Wednesday was the middle. Thursday was a prelude to Friday. Friday was the end. Saturday and Sunday were for studying, cleaning, getting ahead on everything, and sometimes shopping

That's what life is, you know: a bunch of baby steps, one after another after another, and sometimes you fall, but you always get back up, and eventually you get where you're going.

My chest is knotted up. I feel like a person standing in the middle of a crowded street. The person is screaming, but nothing is coming out, and no one's paying attention anyway.

Pig! Pig! Pig!" the other girls began to chant, turning up their noses too. Girl's skin crawled with anger. That

If you weren't, well, you
I'd want to kiss you right now. It was fortunate that the room was so dark. Victoria's cheeks turned bright red.

Perhaps if nothing else, what's happened has taught you that there is more to life - and even to war - than simply staying alive.

I want to tell them about the stones piling up in my stomach. That my thoughts are tangled and wordless.

A bramble took root in Val's stubborn feet. Maybe if she stood there long enough, briar tangles would wrap her up within an enchanted wall, and the wall would stand guard around the sleeping girl until the prince came and burned everything down.

That's how the story went, right?

But at the time I feared he had sensed my love and had run as fast as he could in the other direction...Every time I thought about it, my throat clenched up and my stomach flipped over, and I wished the world would swallow me up so I wouldn't have to feel that way ever again.

She was so sick of all the Latin. The Latin was creepy. It was a language of the dead.

No, but I'm Quicksilver's friend," Sly Boots replied, "and I won't let her do this alone." Lars

She had forgotten how to care about the city that had taken so much from her. Forgetting was the only way she had found to keep moving every day.

Do you even remember how many people you've killed, Eliana?"
…
"Eighty-seven," she whispered as the gunshots continued. "Eighty-eight. Eighty-nine.

to all the girls who have my back-
the queens and the witches
the poets and the mothers-
to the girls who raise their voices
and
to the girls who light the way

Papa one told me that, when I lay dying - because someday I will, we will we all - I must not think of the things that frighten me, and I must not think of my pain. I must think of everyone and everything I have ever loved, for if I do that, those thoughts will follow me into death, and that far black place will turn bright and golden, as the world long ago used to be.

Now that I've known a life with you by my side, I'm not sure I could bear that kind of loneliness again.

What I'm saying... is that girls hunger. And we're taught, from the moment our brains can take it, that there isn't enough food for us all.

We are the light against the darkness, and we must continue to burn brightly, so others may find their way out.

We all carry secrets' said the fox. 'The more we ignore them, the heavier they become.

Hope, she thought, breathing with the tide, was a choice that only those with resolute hearts dared to make.

People like us don't fight for our own hope," he said quietly. "We fight for everyone else's.

She saw the extraordinary in the ordinary, the magic in the mundane.

WORTHLESS, USELESS

It was stuck in a state of collapse, this pit - a tiny, organ-shaped singularity, sucking down the bleeding ravaged bits of who she used to be.

I wonder if Mom and Dad fell in love in a day, or if it took much longer, and if it makes a difference. If the way you fall in love determines how long you will stay in love, or if you will stay in love at all.

Or maybe, Zoey thought darkly, legends about monsters weren't so funny when girls were actually dying.

It was important to dream. Dreaming tells us who we are and scrubs away the bad days.

I'm not like her. I don't steal people."
Mr. Tibbalt watched her, saying nothing.
The silence made Victoria bristle. "Well, I don't.

I feel like we are playing the Quiet Game. When you're tired of playing and want to shout out all the words you've been keeping inside you, but you absolutely cannot lose. So instead you sit, and bite down on everything screaming inside you, and wait.

Dreams - even ones you were good at - weren't for hiding yourself in.

dried blood on Quicksilver's hands,

Who are you?" the boy asked. He examined the stranger from head to toe and made a face. "You're ugly." "And

From sky to sky
From sea to sea
Steady so I stand
And never will I flee.

Beware the woods and the dark, dank, deep. He'll follow you home, and he won't let you sleep.

I want to ask him about these things, but whenever I imagine doing so, I freeze up. I have always been better at writing things than saying them.

If I am a puzzle, this is the moment in which I find the first corner piece. There is still a lot of work to do; I still have a thousand pieces of myself to fit into place. But everyone knows you're supposed to find the corners first. They are the beginning.

is that you read my thoughts using magic, and that's how you found out my real name." "Mind

If you will not choose a name," Mother Petra told five-year-old Girl from behind her enormous desk, "and if you will not answer to any we choose for you, then you will have no name at all." And

This marking, said Victoria, running her finger over a knot in the bark. What does it look like to you?
It looks like a heart, said Lawrence. He put his fingers on the knot too. They brushed Victoria's, and he drew back. I mean, not that I think about things like that, or
well, you know.

Have you ever watched people when they don't know you're watching them? Like in a movie theater or a concert. When people get caught up in watching something, their faces change. The lines on their faces get softer, because whatever they're watching has made them forget how they think they're supposed to be looking. Instead, they just ARE - just sitting there, listening and watching and being real.

I start to worry that I should be saying something. Most of the time I think I could be perfectly content without saying a single word, but no one else seems to function that way. There is so much talking in the world, and so much expectation to talk, even if you do not feel like talking. I find it overwhelming.