Laura Sebastian Quotes

Dragonsbane stares at me for a few moments, her mouth hanging open. She starts to speak, then cuts herself off, then tries again. It happens a few times before she finally manages to say words.

"Are you mad?" she asks me. There's no accusation in her voice - she sounds genuinely curious.

"I'm desperate," I say. "But I suppose the two are close enough.

I'm sorry," I say, bringing my hand over my mouth. "I'm so sorry, Erik."

Erik shakes his head. "I'm useless to you now," he says. "I have no army for you, Theo. I can't lead a battalion. I'm not even sure I could lead the way out of this tent."

"You're blind," Heron says, finding his voice again finally.

"Half," Erik says, motioning to the swollen eye. "This one should heal, I think. But with no depth perception and a narrower field of vision - "

"No," Heron says. "I mean you're blind - you aren't dead. You want to help, you want to save your people, then do it. You don't have to lead an army to do that.

It only makes the voice in my head grow louder. And when the voice grows loud enough to push past my lips, the Kaiser grows angry

Hope is contagious," she says. "When you have enough, it spreads naturally.

...fear is not a thing to be controlled by logic.

The Conquering is what the Kalovaxians call the siege. It makes it sound more honorable, I suppose, to conquer something wild rather than to lay siege to something defenseless.

I remember how my mother had no shame in crying when it was necessary. She never saw it as a weakness; rather, she believed it a strength to bear one's soul.

Maybe they have broken you, but you are a sharper weapon because of it. And it is time to strike.

I thought we were past his martyr phase

Thora is so much simpler. She is a hollow thing with no past no future. No desires. No anger. Only fear. Only obedience

My thoughts are growing bolder now, and though I know they are dangerous, I can no longer quiet them. And for the first time, I don't want to

Theodosia, Ampelio called me. It's a strong name - the one my mother gave me. It's the name of a queen. It doesn't feel like a name I deserve, but here I stand, alone. If I am to survive, I must be strong enough to live up to it.

I spent much of my first six years afraid of my mother's throne the way most children are afraid of monsters lurking under their beds.

A queen without a crown, without a throne, without a coronation. What, exactly, do you imagine you're queen of?

There's no shame in reaching your limits, Theo," he says, using a small gust of air to invigorate the weak fire into a full blaze. "It means you've given something your all.

Everything is the same, even though I am not.

It's safer to live only in the present, to be a girl with no past to yearn for and no future to have ripped away.

My mother was known as the Fire Queen, regal and strong. But I am the Ash Princess, a living joke.

He has already taken everything, my mother, Ampellio, my home. And now, I have nothing left to lose. And now, I have nothing left to fear.

I've seen enough to know that hate is something learned, not something inherent. I saw it firsthand in Cress, in how she treated me when we were children and how she treated me once her father and her world convinced her that I was less than her.

I'm always alone. I should be used to it by now, though I don't think it's the kind of thing a person ever grows used to.

Is that all you want?"

At that, he reaches for me, and pulls me toward him so that we're standing face to face. "Well, I want you, but I didn't think I had to say that," he says. "In whatever capacity I can have you, for however long you want me, I'm yours."

I smile, rolling onto the balls of my feet to kiss him softly.

"Yana Crebesti," I murmur against his lips. "No matter what comes.

If there is a step after anger, I haven't yet found it.

The Kaiser should have killed me when he had the chance.

The thought almost sends me running back for my bed, but I know it's only a slower death that awaits me there. I have to make a choice. I have to trust myself.

Talking about him feels like rubbing at a raw wound, but I don't know how to stop. Some wounds you don't want to heal all the way. Some wounds you want to leave a scar.

He looks at me like I'm his favorite book, one he's read every page of too many times. One whose secrets he's uncovered but he keeps coming back for more.