Margaret Rogerson Quotes

But you know the truth of magic. The greatest power springs only from suffering.

She looked around. "Are we inside the Codex? An alternate dimension of some kind?"

His eyes narrowed. "So you do know your thaumaturgical theory."

Elisabeth decided not to tell him that she simply read a lot of novels.

I think - I think I was a bit dead already, before you came along.

You belong in the library, as much as any book.

When terrible things have happened to you, sometimes the promise of something good can be just as frightening.

Was that a thing people did-just gave up? When there was so much in the world to love, to fight for?

Then he strode right over and, in one smooth motion, insinuated himself into the bed next to me, facing me, under the covers, with the bold and unselfconscious vanity of a cat sitting down on an open book.

Didn't they realize their lives were worth more than the dubious affection of one silly man?

You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Her eyes flew open. Nathaniel was contemplating her with an unreadable expression. "It's alright," he said. "I know . . ." He considered his next words. "I know what it feels like to have things you can't say. To anyone.

If you must stare at something for hours on end, I'd prefer it to be me alone.

I wiped off my fingers, but it wasn't the mold or maggots making my stomach revolt... No, it was the knowledge that all around me sat empty people in rotting clothes, nibbling on flyblown trifles while they spoke of nothing of consequence with fixed smiles on their false faces.

We were in the autumnlands.
Dim as it was, the forest glowed. The golden leaves flashing by blazed like sparks caught in the updraft of a fire. A scarlet carpet unrolled before us, rich and flawless as velvet. Rising from the forest floor, the black, tangled roots breathed a bluish mist that reduced the farthest trees' trunks to ghostly silhouettes, yet left their foliage's luminous hues untouched. Vivid moss speckled the branches like tarnished copper. The crisp spice of pine sap infused the cool air over a musty perfume of dry leaves. A knot swelled in my throat. I couldn't look away. There was too much of it, too fast. I'd never be able to drink it all in...

The thought of seeing judgment - or worse, disappointment - on her face when she looked at me next made me want to curl in on myself and never face the world again. I had no way to prove that the love Rook and I felt for each other was real and that we deserved every desperate, foolhardy inch of it, and I was already tired, so tired, of bearing its weight as a failure. A crime.

Ink and parchment flowed through her veins. The magic of the Great Libraries lived in her very bones. They were a part of her, and she a part of them.

She stared across the shining city, ancient, impossibly vast, and wondered how all that light and beauty could exist side by side with so much darkness. She had never felt smaller or more insignificant. But finally, for the first time in weeks, she was free.

Isobel." He swept down to his knees and kissed my hand, gazing up at me in devotion. "I love you more than the stars in the sky. I love you more than Lark loves dresses.

Nathaniel opened one gray eye, startlingly pale against his soot- and blood-covered face. He looked around dubiously, as though he wasn't quite sure whether he wanted to wake up yet, and then slowly opened the other, focusing on Elisabeth's face. "Hello, you menace.

I haven't sacrificed virgins for my perfect cheekbones, if that's what you mean. Virgins, in general, have fewer magical properties than people tend to assume."

Elisabeth tried not to look too relieved by that information.

Good-bye, Scrivener," he said promptly, without looking at her. "It truly was a pleasure, aside from the time you bit me. Try not to knock over any of the Chancellor's bookcases.

Ah, I see. In that case, well-behaved ravens. They will mind their manners.

Would you still like to go ice skating?"
"Yes!" she burst out. "But---" She tried not to glance down at his injured leg.
A grin tugged at his mouth. "We saved the world, Scrivener. We'll figure out a way."
She relaxed. He was right. They would figure out a way.
"Even if you have to pull me on a sled," Nathaniel went on.
"I am not pulling you on a sled!"
"Why not? I dare say you're strong enough."
She sputtered.. "It would get in the papers."
"I hope so. I'd want to save a clipping.

I love you, too," she said.
Nathaniel's brow furrowed. He turned his face to the side and blinked several times. "Thank god," he said finally. "I don't think unrequited love would have suited me. I might have started writing poetry."
Elisabeth continued stroking his hair. "That doesn't sound so bad."
"I assure you, it would have proven more unpleasant for everyone than necromancy.

Ah, but you were not a pawn. All along, you have been the queen.

I thought you didn't know how to drive a carriage," she shouted over the pounding of hooves.
"Nonsense," Nathaniel shouted back. "I'm a fast learner when properly motivated.

Nathaniel looked at her sidelong. "Scrivener, I know I cut a devilishly handsome figure lying here on the floor all covered in blood----which I hear some girls find quite appealing, strangely enough, and if you're one of them I'm not going to judge---but please stop crying. It's only a flesh wound. I'll be back to fighting evil any moment now.

The library no more belonged to Ashcroft and his plot than Elizabeth belonged to the unknown parents who had brought her into this world. It possessed a life of its own, had become something greater than Cornelius had ever intended. For these were not ordinary books the libraries kept. They were knowledge, given life. Wisdom, given voice. They sang when starlight streamed through the library's windows. They felt pain and suffered heartbreak. Sometimes they were sinister, grotesque-but so was the world outside. And that made the world no less worth fighting for, because wherever there was darkness, there was also so much light.

Why, would you prefer to share one? I wouldn't have expected it of you, Scrivener, but I suppose some species do bite each other as a prelude to courtship.

Of course ." A wicked gleam entered his eyes. "But I only turn girls into salamanders on Tuesdays. Luckily for you, it´s a Wednesday, which is the day I drink a goblet of orphan´s blood for supper.

Wardens both protected grimoires from the world and protected the world from them.

Does it need to be so tight?" Nathaniel objected as Silas retied the cravat in a complicated series of knots, his gloved fingers moving with nimble certainty over the fabric.
"I'm afraid so, if you wish to remain fashionable," Silas replied. "And we don't want a repeat of the incident with Lady Gwendolyn."
Nathaniel scoffed. "How was I supposed to know tying it that way meant that I intended to proposition her? I have better things to do then learn secret signals with handkerchiefs and neckcloths."
"Had you listened to me, I would have told you, and spared you from getting champagne thrown in your face---though I heard several people say afterward that that was their favorite part of the dinner.

The clamor of traffic intensified as the coach's door swung open. Nathaniel clambered inside amid a swirl of emerald silk. He flashed Elisabeth a grin, pulling the door shut as he took a seat in the opposite corner.

"Best if I don't show myself," he explained. "I don't want to inflame the public. They go absolutely mad in the presence of celebrity, you see, and I'd prefer them not to storm the carriage. There are only so many propositions of marriage a man can bear.

Life is like the oil within a lamp. It can be measured, but the pace at which it burns depends on how the dial is turned day by day, how bright and fierce the flame. And there is no predicting whether the lamp might be knocked to the ground and shatter, when it could have blazed on a great while longer. Such is the unpredictability of life.

Nathaniel nodded. "If you can believe it, I used to fancy him. Then he went and grew that mustache. Or he murdered a gerbil and attached it to his face. For the life of me, I can't tell which.

Excuse me, ladies," said Nathaniel. He bowed, which dislodged a trickle of soot from his hair. Then his eyes rolled up, and he collapsed face-first onto the floor.

His severe expression faltered as his hand grazed the cape covering her gown.

"Scrivener," he said carefully, "I don't mean to be forward, but is that a - "

"A sword hidden underneath my dress? Yes, it is."

"I see. And how exactly is it - "

"I thought you didn't mean to be forward." She squeezed his arm. "Come on.

Yet no matter what they were doing, everyone in the forest waited with an indrawn breath, waiting for the taste of autumn, the smell of change, the first news of a king and queen unlike any the world had known before.

This was not like drawing a sword. It was like commanding an army. Becoming a god.

One moment," she said, stealing toward the door. Carefully, she tested the doorknob. It was unlocked. She wrenched it open in a sudden rush of courage, only to promptly slam it shut again in Nathaniel's face. She had recalled, too late, that she was wearing only her shift.

"I'm not decent," she explained, hugging her arms to her chest.

"That's all right," he replied. "I hardly ever am, myself.

...there is always more than one way to see the world. Those who claim otherwise would have you dwell forever in the dark.

Now came the moment he will discover that despite all he had done to her, he had failed to break her.

I don't know what came over me. Of course I would be happy to join you in a life-endangering act of heroism, Scrivener. You must only say the word.

Perhaps I haven't seen what you can do," she said. "But I've seen what you choose to do." She looked up. "Isn't that more important?

I quite like eggs," I replied firmly, well aware that the enchantments he described would all turn strange and sour, even deadly, in the end. Besides, what on earth would I do with men's hearts? I couldn't make an omelette out of them.

Isobel. Isobel, listen. The teapot is of no consequence. I can defeat anyone, at any time.

Katrien didn't waste any time. While Elisabeth looked around, she went straight to the desk and started rifling through the drawers. "For science," she explained, which was frequently what she said right before something exploded.

I knew you talked to books. I didn't realize they listened.

Are you in love with me?" I blurted out.
A terrible silence followed. Rook didn't turn around.
"Please say something."
He rounded on me. "Is that so terrible? You say it as though it's the most awful thing you can imagine. It isn't as though I've done it on purpose. Somehow I've even grown fond of your - your irritating questions, and your short legs, and your accidental attempts to kill me."
I recoiled. "That's the worst declaration of love I've ever heard!

The library wants to fight back.

Tempting as the prospect is," Nathaniel said, "we are not attempting world domination. It sounds fun in theory, but in reality it's a logistical nightmare. All those assassinations and so forth."

At her blank look, he explained, "Silas used to tell me bedtime stories.

She would become an outcast from the only world in which she had ever belonged. But her oaths meant nothing if they asked her to forsake people she cared about in their greatest moment of need

I'm ruining your reputation, aren't I?" she asked, watching the spectacle unfold.

"Don't worry," Nathaniel said. "I've been hard at work trying to ruin my reputation for years. Perhaps after this, influential families will stop trying to catapult their unwed daughters over my garden fence. Which actually did happen once. I had to fend her off with a trowel.

Isobel, I love you wholly. I love you eternally. I love you so dearly it frightens me. I fear I could not live without you. I could see your face every morning upon waking for a thousand years and still look forward to the next as though it were the first.

I was alive in a way I never had been before, in a world that no longer felt stale but instead crackled with breathless promise.

I stood gaping at Gadfly until a puzzled smile crossed his lips and he extended his pale hand in my direction, perhaps trying to determine whether I'd died standing up, not an unreasonable concern, as to him humans no doubt seemed to expire at the slightest provocation.

You've been attacked, violated, tormented, left on the streets to starve. The odds you face are impossible. If you continue down this path, you'll die. Why won't you just give up?"
She stared. Was that a thing people did - just gave up? When there was so much in the world to love, to fight for? "I cannot," she said fiercely. "I never will.

Why do we desire, above all other things, that which has the greatest power to destroy us?

This wasn't like me. So many years of being cautious, and in a matter of minutes I'd started slipping up.

What a pretty bird you are," I crooned.
His struggling slowed, then stilled. I felt him cock his head.
"What a lovely bird," I repeated in a syrupy voice. "Yes, you're the loveliest bird." I stroked his back. He made a pleased muttering sound in his breast. Soon his smug silence indicated that he was quite content to remain as he was, so long as I continued my praise.

The sooner we get started, the faster I can get back to tormenting widows and scandalizing the elderly with my nefarious black arts.

Now she felt as though she were a ghost haunting her own body, gazing at her life through a dirty glass.

What is this, master - the third time I've broken you out of a jail cell?"

Nathaniel coughed. "Minor misunderstandings, on both previous occasions," he assured Elisabeth.

(....) He spoke mildly, his lashes shading his eyes. "At least you're wearing clothes this time, master."

"I'll have you know," Nathaniel said, "that that was an accident, and the public certainly didn't mind. One woman even sent me flowers." To Elisabeth, he added, "Don't worry. She was forty years old, and her name was Mildred.

She sniffed loudly. "I'm not crying. My eyes are watering. You smell awful."

"What? I never smell awful. I smell like sandalwood and masculine allure." He lifted his head to smell himself, and gagged. "Never mind."

"Perhaps you might consider not setting yourself on fire next time, Master," Silas said, pointedly.

You're a proper monster Silas. I'm glad of it.

But isn't absurdity part of being human? We aren't ageless creatures who watch centuries pass from afar. Our worlds are small, our lives are short, and we can only bleed a little before we fall.

Books, too, had hearts, though they were not the same as people's, and a book's heart could be broken: she had seen it happen before. Grimoires that refused to open, their voices gone silent, or whose ink faded and bled across the pages like tears.

What is the point of life if you don't believe in anything?

The ability to feel is a strength, not a weakness.

He was astonishingly vain even by fair folk standards, which was like saying a pond is unusually wet, or a bear surprisingly hairy.

God, Elisabeth, I've been doomed since the moment I watched you smack a fiend off my carriage with a crowbar. How could you not tell? Silas has been rolling his eyes at me for weeks.

First, I learned how to make tea," he said finally, speaking more to himself than to her. "When humans wish to help, they are forever offering each other tea.

Scrivener," he sighed. "I should have known it was you the moment I heard my great-grandmother's priceless antique vase hit the floor." He turned his assessing gaze to the Malefict. "And who's this? A friend of yours?"

The Codex bared a mouthful of fangs and produced an ear-splitting shriek. Above them, the chandelier trembled.

"Charmed," Nathaniel said. He turned back to Elisabeth. "If the two of you feel the need to destroy anything else, I've been meaning to get rid of Aunt Clothilde's tapestry for years. You'll know it when you see it. It's mauve.

Are all librarians like you, or is it only the feral ones who have been raised by booklice?

I hope you haven't died in there, Miss Scrivener," he said.

She didn't move. She barely allowed herself to breathe.

"It would be rather inconvenient for me if you did," he went on. "There would be all sorts of tedious meetings, an inquest, an accusation or two of murder ...

But every once in a while, when her back was turned, she could have sworn she felt his gaze settle upon her, as tentative as the brush of a butterfly's wing.

God, Elizabeth, I've been doomed since the moment I watched you smack a fiend off my carriage with a crowbar.

It was always wise to be polite to books, whether or not they could hear you.

I like girls too, Scrivener." Amusement danced in Nathaniel's eyes. "I like both. If you're going to fantasize about my love life, I insist you do so accurately.

I will see Master Thorn settled." Silas paused to sniff the air beside Elisabeth. "Then, Miss Scrivener, I shall draw you a bath. I believe supper is also in order. And - has no one lit the lamps?" He looked aggrieved. "I have hardly been absent for twenty-four hours, and already the world has descended into ruin.

And we wouldn't live happily ever after, because I don't believe in such nonsense, but we both had a long, bold adventure ahead of us, and a great deal to look forward to at last.