Lesley Livingston Quotes

Be brave, gladiatrix, he said, And be wary. Bright things beget treachery. Beautiful things breed envy. Once you win Caesar's love, you'll earn his enemies' hate.

Kelley. Your name is Kelley, isn't it?" He didn't wait for her confirmation. "Yes. Well. Tell me ... that bit just now ... was that from Dante's Inferno?"
Uh ... no," Kelley stammered. Her face felt hot.
Really?"
I'm in for it.
Are you sure?" he continued. "Because it most certainly wasn't from this play. And it bloody well sounded like hell.

That hallmark image of cupid as a fat cherub with arrows? I think the real cupid is some kind of psycho juvie with a taser.

Sonny had circled three words in gold ink: i love thee.

Yes. And also, if it's okay by you, I'd like to shut up now ... Or possibly just go somewhere and swallow my face.

Believe me, Kelley. If I'm not ... it's because I'm already dead." He stroked her hair, and she could feel his breath warm on her forehead, like a kiss. "Because anyone that would seek to hurt you would have to kill me first.

When people have so much money that they can do anything, buy anything, be anything, then they start to look around for the things money can't buy. Strength, courage, nobility... they see it in others. And they want it.

Well. I think it's safe to say that, in my absence, the power grabbing and backstabbing and political intrigue has officially reached an all-time Otherworld high.

Don't ever say that, Fennrys," she said. "I don't ever want to hear you say that you don't deserve or you aren't worthy. You do. You are.

What did the Faerie that attacked you look like?"
"Super creepy. Ripped jeans, weird tattoos, bad hair. And, come to think of it, really nice boots ... "
"Where?"
"On his feet."
Sonny winced and rubbed his temples. "Where were you attacked, Kelley?"
"Okay, see ... that was a joke.

Temper passion with control, conviction with cunning.

She felt his arms tighten around her, as they spiraled up, borne aloft on wings that were dark as the night, bright as a new star.

Maybe honor wasn't always something won by a blade. I thought. And maybe it couldn't be so easily stripped away, even in servitude.

Rome only exists because of slaves. That's how it functions. We are its muscles, its brains, and most of all its secrets.

Sonny pulled Lucky up short and swung around to face Fennrys. I'm not afraid to die. I just don't want to die surprised. And I swear to all the gods, if the last thought that goes through my mind is 'What the hell was that?' I will hunt you down in the afterlife and punch you in the face throughout eternity.

Love isn't blind. It's blinding.

Kelley-"You know that story ends horribly, right?"
Sonny-"What did Shakepeare know? He probably would have rewritten that bit if he'd thought about it.

This is Rome. Treachery and opportunism and backstabbing run in her veins like lifeblood, and if you've never had to live your life constantly looking over your shoulder, then you have no idea how dangerous it can be.

That doesn't happeneverytime you kiss someone, does it? "" Maddox said to Chloe, gasping through the pain of his double injuries.

I knew there had to be more to honor than just one's station in life. That's what Sorcha had taught me: that actions meant more than accolades. That honor was something worth fighting for- and dying for- no matter what house you were born into.

There is no thing called dishonor. No thing called honor. There is only winning. Only losing. And if you lose, you don't leave a freshly made bed for your enemy to sleep in.

A conversation with Mabh was like playing tag with a grizzly bear.

If you killl yourself, Comorra, it will wreck him. Utterly. Believe me on this one. So there you go - there's another casualty of war. And sure, in the grand scheme of things, whoop-dee-doo, who gives a crap about some dude's broken heart. But what about the not-so-grand scheme? Doesn't love count for something? Do you think all this ... this carnage would have happened if the Romans hadn't taken Prasutagus away from your mother? If she hadn't been so blinded by grief maybe she would have found a way to work things out with the governor instead of goading him to war." Clare shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Maybe not. Maybe two people alone in the darkness can't generate enough light to drive it back. But maybe they can be a beacon for others. A candle in the window at midnight, you know? I mean, they can at least be there for each other, right?

This oath is the oath we all swear. Not to a god, or a master, or even to the Ludus Achillea... but to our sisters who stand here with us. Our sisters. This is the oath that binds us all, one to one, all to all, so that we are no longer free. We belong to each other. We are bound to each other. In swearing to each other, we free ourselves from the outside world, from the world of men, from those who would seek to bind us to Fate and that which would make us slaves. We sacrifice our liberty so that, ultimately, we can be truly free.

You're joking. You want to help me?"
"We're brothers-in-arms, Sonny." Fennrys stood and paced restlessly. "And, truth is, I'm bored out of my mind in Manhattan. Nothing to do there but jump at shadows and put up with Aaneel's pompous yapping: 'There're crack in the Gate! Remain vigilant! Protect the puny humans! Eek, a mouse!' It's tiresome.

Some things you just have to take on faith and believe in at the risk of getting hurt. It's one of the things that the Fair Folk will never understand, and it's something that sets us apart from them. The fact that each and every time we believe in each other we take a risk. Because we know that it might NOT be the truth. But we also know that it MIGHT be.

You are what you are, no matter what you once were.

In the arena, he continued, it won't be enough just to fight your best. It's never enough to simply win the battle. What you have to win is their hearts. Caesar's heart. Charm them, beguile them, seduce the mob. That will make him fall in love with you. Because unless Caesar loves you, you cannot truly claim Victory.

He whispered, "My Firecracker...

Uri...vinciri...verberari...ferroque necari.
I will endure to be burned... to be bound... to be beaten... and to be killed by the sword.

It's all tied up with what's inside you. Head and heart, mind and
soul. Who you are and what you want-that's what fuels it. That's what
shapes it.

Lucky!" she shouted. The creature pulled up and pranced excitedly before her, front hooves pawing at the ground. Laughing with happiness, Kelley flung her arms around the kelpie and buried her face in his mane. Lucky nuzzled her shoulder and head-butted at her in delight.
Besides Sonny, Fennrys gestured with his good arm. "Isn't that ... ?"
"The Roan Horse, Harbinger of the Wild Hunt and Fearsome Bringer of Doom. Yeah" Sonny nodded. "Used to be."
"Thought so." Lucky kicked up his back hooves like a frolicking colt, and Fennrys snorted is disgust. "Evil really needs to step up its game.

He can't die! He's the bloody King of Winter."
"Don't be absurd," said Bob, rolling an eye at the wounded Janus. "Just because he's immortal doesn't mean he can't die!

It's war. Don't leave anything behind for your enemy to use. Scorch the earth, kill the cattle, foul the water.

She drew herself up and took in a breath, concentrating on her inflection so that she could indulge him in his game. Then she leaned forward and, in her best, most sincerely love-struck voice, breathed, "I love thee."
Sonny's face was just inches from hers. His storm-gray eyes flashed, and the dark silk of his hair drifted across his cheek as he leaned in his head. "Perfect."
So was the kiss.
Perfect.
"I love thee," Sonny murmured, all pretense gone.

Death holds no fear for me. I shall conquer it as I conquer all things.