Robin LaFevers Quotes

Getting the poison to them is more difficult than it should be. I cannot just slip it into their food, they eat with the rest of the household, and as much as I dislike everyone here, I am not willing to poison them all. At least not yet.

Time is the best salve for heart wounds. Reminding oneself of the small joys and comforts that can still be found in the world. A voice in the dark, a friend, the smell of fresh apples. All of those, over time, can help.

Indeed, I am as skilled as any alchemist, but instead of turning lead into gold, I turn my fear into daring, and assuredly that is a far greater trick.

Why be the sheep when you can be the wolf?

We are the broken and the damned, the midden heap of Mortain's grace and mercy.

Wasn't she scared?" Isabeau asked, her voice naught but a whisper. "To go with death?"
"No." I reach over and tuck her hair behind her ear. "For death is not scary or evil or even unmerciful; it is simply death.

Even if we are lost or wandering, He will find us - always, He will find us - and try to bring us home.

Women like her are worse than the men they serve. They cling hardest to the very rules that cage them, ruthlessly ensuring that all other women are equally trapped.

My hand tightens on my wine goblet, and I am glad it is silver, not glass, for surely it would shatter under the force of my annoyance with this woman.

Lie as convincingly as I can and pray she doesn't kill someone important.

Something has changed me, but it has also freed me.

I point out. It was the most foolish, jape-fisted bit of buffoonery I have ever seen, and I am impressed in spite of that.

I will no longer sit and wait patiently for my happiness to grow like some budding fruit on the limbs of a tree, but will mold it and shape it with my own hands.

Once they leave to see to their other duties, I go to stand before the fire, feeling once again as if I have been completely upended and remade anew, when in truth, I have barely caught my breath from the first time my life shattered before my eyes.

But this- this is different. This is no shattering, but rather some great knitting together of the broken pieces into a stronger whole.

I feel cleansed, not only of sin- but of artifice. I am stripped down to nothing but my raw self. As uncomfortable as it makes me feel, there is freedom in it as well, for there is no place left for others' expectations and desires of me to hide.

For a spawn of the Underworld, you have far too much honor.

What do you know of gods and saints?" I ask, filling my voice with scorn.
His fingers drift to the silver oak leaf of Saint Camulos on his cloak. "I know that what our saints want is not always made clear to us. Sometimes, it is their wish for us to flail and struggle and come to our own choices, not accept ones that have been made for us.

He flashes a grin that is two parts death and one part humor.

I am a handmaiden of Death. I walk in His dark shadow and do His bidding. Serving Him is my only purpose in this life, and I have let my annoyance drive that duty from my mind. It will not happen again.

Good intentions are only lies the weak tell themselves.

Everyone has a price, it seems

I was wondering, since I have kissed you three times now, if you might turn into a handsome prince." At the sight of his quick, easy grin, I feel my heart dance in my chest.
"Alas, you are still stuck with a toad, my lady.

You came to us a lump of clay, and we molded you into an instrument of Death.

Don't you see? Your mortal heart shines like a candle flame and I, like one of those hapless black moths you used to leave as an offering, am helpless before its lure.

I have lived now in the real world, with all its mess and turmoil, all its wildness and all its beauty, and I can never unsee what I have seen, I can never unknow what I now know. More importantly, something deep inside me has awakened, and now that I have moved through the world fully aware, it is impossible to let myself be lulled back to sleep.

My stomach churns at how foul a place men have made the world - aided by the women who blindly adhere to their rules.

I do not do small pieces, only large.

A short while later, as I stare down at the bodies of the six men I have just killed, I cannot help but wonder: Do I love killing? Of a certainty, I love the way my body and weapons move as one; I revel in the knowledge of where to strike for maximum impact. And of a certainty, I am good at it.

Mortain's was the only love that placed no demands upon me, the only one who loved me for simply being. His love was as unwavering and constant as the sun. It was what gave me the strength to keep going. The faith to keep trying. The hope I needed to persevere. That was him all along- whether I called him Mortain or Balthazaar, my heart knew him, recognized him.

Men of power are unwilling to believe anything ill of their own kind.

Your love cannot change a man – or a god. All it can do is open a door, create a new path for him to choose. One that has not been open to him before. That is what the power of your loved can offer him – all of that, and no more.

I must have faith, but having faith is hard, so very much harder than despair.

I will teach them how to think for themselves and not simply reflect back to the world what it wishes from them. They will be strong not only of body, but of mind and heart.

And most important, I will teach them how to love, for in the end, that has been the greatest weapon of all.l It has proven stronger even than Death.

Beast looks as if he wishes to put his head down on the table and weep. Or perhaps lock Sybella up in her chamber for the next few weeks.

It is rarely a lack of love that forces two hearts apart, but other obstacles.

When did my heart turn away from its willingness to die if need be in order to kill d'Albret?
Perhaps once I escaped, once I was no longer in his orbit or infected with the bleak despair that enveloped me while I was in his household. Or mayhap my short time away from him has reminded me that there are things worth living for. There are good people in this world, in this duchy. Those who mean to do all they can to stop d'Albret. Living inside his walls, it was all too easy to forget that.
There is the thrill of a fast horse, and the sun and wind in your face. The rare - and all the more precious for it - moments of laughter to be had. The excitement of seeing Mortain's marque and knowing the hunt is about to begin. The look in someone's eye when he truly see you - not just your face and hair, but the very essence of your soul.
It is a raw and uncomfortable realization that Beast is partly behind this newfound will to live. Not for him, but because he reminded me of what life has to offer. He lives life so joyously - it is impossible not to want that joy for oneself.

What good is fighting if what you are fighting for is lost?

I will not let them take you alive." Of all the things he could have said, that is the one thing that comforts me the most. "Nor I you," I say around a strange lump that has formed in my throat.

You love me?"
"Yes, you great lummox. I love you."
He lets out a sigh. "Sweet Camulos! It's about time.

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Some days, like today, my aim and timing is so true it takes my breath away and I feel certain Mortain's hand guides my own.

I feel grace. Warm and flowing like a river, it pours over me. I am awash in grace and cannot help but raise my face to it as I would the sun. I want to laugh as it rains downs on me, ripples through my limbs, cleanses them of fatigue and self-loathing. I am reborn in this grace, and suddenly, I can do anything.

I have avoided the fate my father planed for me, surely it is I who won not he.

The abbess may well try and force me to return to the convent, silent and in disgrace, but I will not go back. Not like this. Indeed, I can see no way I can ever return to the convent, for the abbess will not let me return in victory, and I refuse to do so in defeat.

I am beginning to think that love itself is never wrong. It is what love can drive people to do that is the problem.

It is best if you do not spend all your time wishing you were somewhere else.

Why must the honourable die when so many dishonourable live?

We cannot be held responsible for what our families do, especially when we have no way to control them.

And then, without any warning at all, he presses his lips against mine.
As his mouth covers my own, I find myself reeling, as if I have been tipped backward and am falling, falling, so that even the stars in the sky are spinning. His lips are warm and soft, the unrelenting pull of his desire for me as strong as the pull of the waves against the sand.
It is not like practicing with Ismae, or even Sybella. It is not like any of the first kisses I have imagined over the years. It is far, far better and more wondrous, and yet terrifying as well, like one of the raging storms that pound against the convent walls in the winter, threatening to breach its defenses. So too does this kiss threaten something deep within me that I cannot even name.

At least I will not be the ugliest one here.

What is it like?"

"What is what like?"

"Death. What is death like?"

"He is quiet and still, and oh, so peaceful. Fear will no longer hold any sway over you, nor will worry or sadness. Can you think of a time when you were especially tired? Perhaps after a long day of travel? Do you remember how lovely it was to climb into your feather bed that night? How grateful your tired limbs were? How welcoming it felt? How delicious to close your eyes and finally rest?"

"Yes."

"It is just like that.

And there it is. The threat I have lived with my entire life. If I am not good enough, kind enough, thoughtful enough, obedient enough, I will be cast from my home like a stunted fish from a fisherman's net.

Impossible things do happen. But only if we make them.

Given the choice between protecting the innocent without Mortain's grace or risking eternal damnation, I will protect others every time. My own true nature has nothing gentle or restrained about it. I am darkness made flesh, but it is the darkness of mystery, the endless night sky, and the deep caverns of the earth. It is the darkness that can love a man like Beast. The darkness that will protect those I love with my last breath.

I have always been willful and stubborn. It is one of my greatest sins."

"But is it a sin? If it allows you to survive? Endure? Prevail?

He promised that when he grew up, he would slay all the monsters

And I must remind myself that assassins should take no pleasure in their finery and frippery.

How do you not know the nature of the hellequin's hunt? Have you sprouted from the earth wholly formed, like some miraculous cabbage?