V.E. Schwab Quotes

Impossibility is a thing that begs to be disproven," said Ned brightly. "Perhaps it hasn't been possible for years, perhaps it's not even possible right now, but that doesn't mean it can't be. It doesn't mean it won't be. You say the magic guttered, the flame went out. But what if it simply needed to be stoked?

There was a time he would have cared about the stain, but it was gone, that life.

To my son, the crown prince of Arnes, when it is time know that a father lives for his son, but a king lives for his people.

Sydney, look at me.' He rested his hands on the car roof and leaned in. 'No one is going to hurt you. Do you know why?' She shook her head, and Victor smiled. 'Because I'll hurt them first.

It doesn't matter what someone is. Only what they think they are.

Sydney didn't trust stillness. She had come to believe that it was a bad thing. A wrong, unnatural, dead thing.

And then the door burst open.
Alucard stood in the doorway, soaking wet, as if he'd just been dumped in the sea, or the sea had been dumped over him. "Stop fucking with the ship.

A king belongs with his people. A prince belongs with his king.

Magic ran between them like a current, a cord, and he wondered who she would have been if she'd stayed in Grey London. If she'd never picked his pocket, never held the contents ransom for adventure.
Maybe she would never have discovered magic.
Or maybe she would have simply changed her world instead of his.

Mother... fucker...

Her hand slid beneath his shirt with all the practiced grace of a thief. But this time she wanted him to feel her touch, her palms gliding over his ribs and around his back, fingertips digging into her shoulder blades.

Don't get yourself killed."
"I'll do my best," said Kell, and then he was going.
"And come back," added Rhy.
Kell paused. "Don't worry," he said. "I will. Once I've seen it."
"Seen what?" asked Rhy.
Kell smiled. "Everything.

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Death comes for us all," said Holland evenly. "I would simply have mine mean something.

Astrid Dane. . . Her long colorless hair was woven back into a braid, and her porcelain skin bled straight into the edges of her tunic. Her entire outfit was fitted to her like armor; the collar of her shirt was high and rigid, guarding her throat, and the tunic itself ran from chin to wrist to waist, less out of a sense of modesty, Kell was sure, than protection. Below a gleaming silver belt, she wore fitted pants that tapered into tall boots (rumor had it that a man once spat at her for refusing to wear a dress; she'd cut off his lips). The only bits of color were the pale blue of her eyes and the greens and reds of the talismans that hung from her neck and wrists and were threaded through her hair. . .
"I smell something sweet," she said. She'd been gazing up at the ceiling. Now her eyes wandered
down and landed on Kell. "Hello, flower boy.

Ignorance is only bliss if you want to get caught.

Lila looked to Kell. "You didn't teach me this one."
His jaw was slack. "I … I didn't know it."
Holland gave them both a bland look. "Amazing," he said dryly. "There are still things you haven't learned.

Me?" she said, pushing open the doors. "I'd choose clever.

he was left with the words going sour on his tongue.

A wiry crewman named Kobis sat at the end of a couch, reading a book in the low light, clearly relishing the closest thing he ever found to peace and quiet

Kell frowned deeply. It is amazing, thought Lila, that he doesn't have more wrinkles.

...it is sad, of course, to forget.
But it is a lonely thing, to be forgotten.
To remember when no one else does.

Kell looked her in the eyes. "You will be trapped there," he said. "When it is over."
Lila shivered. "Perhaps," she said, "or perhaps I will go with you to the end of the world. After all, you've made me curious.

He was sitting in the back of the booth, and Lila on the outside edge, as far from him as possible. She couldn't shake the feeling he was watching her beneath that brimmed cap, even though every time she checked, his attention was leveled on the tavern behind her head. His fingers traced absent pattern in a pool of spilled ale, but his green eye twitched in concentration. It took her several long seconds to realize he was counting bodies in the room.

"Nineteen," she said coolly, and Alucard and Kell both looked at her as if she'd spoken out of turn, but Holland simply answered, "Twenty," and despite herself, Lila swiveled in her seat. She did a swift count. He was right. She'd missed on e of the men behind the bar. Dammit.

"If you have to use your eyes," he added, "you're doing it wrong.

You remember me, and I'll remember you, and that way we won't be forgotten." "That's shit logic, Vic." "It's perfect.

You look like Snow White killed the queen and stole the mirror.

This is why I drink." Lenos

it meant she was broken the way Serena was broken, the way Eli was broken. Missing pieces.

An exasperated sound escaped the man's throat.
I don't know what it does, but it's...like you. And I don't mean pompous and infuriating. The magic surrounding that ring...it's Antari.

You're not listening," he said, exasperated. "No," she snapped. "You're not." She licked the blood from her lips. "I don't need saving.

And Ulysses stopped up his ears against the siren's song," recited Victor, pulling the plugs from his own ears as Serena collapsed to the dirt lot, "for it was death.

Perhaps she was glass.
But glass is only brittle until it breaks.
Then it's sharp.

ONCE upon a time, when the marks on his back were still fresh, Eli told himself that he was growing wings.

After all, his mother thought Eli was an angel, even if his father said he had the devil in him.

Look, everyone talks about the unknown like it's some big scary thing, but it's the familiar that's always bothered me. It's heavy, builds up around you like rocks, until it's walls and a ceiling and a cell.

I apologize for shooting you in the leg," said Lila. "I was entirely myself.

Power in Balance. Balance in Power.

My life is mine to spend," she said. "And I will not spend it here, no matter how nice your city is, or how much safer it might be. We had a deal, Kell. And now you have Tieren to guard your story and heal your brother. I'm of no use to him. Let me be of use to you.

If you decide to leave- when you decide to leave- don't do it without saying good-bye.

When this is over," she said, tucking the watch into a fold of her cloak. "I want to be the one to slit his throat.

I've found that watching is the quickest way to learn, and the safest way to stay alive." Alucard

The worst part of going numb was that it took away everything but this, the smothering need to hurt, to break, to kill, pouring over him like a thick blanket of syrup until he panicked and brought the physical sensations back.

(...)Lila, one of these days, you're going to get yourself killed."
"Would you miss me?" she asked.
"Like an itch," he shot back.

Are you sure about him?" she asked.

"I am," he said, his voice so steady she wanted to lean against it.

A knife struck the docks between Kell's feet, and he jumped.

"Lila!" he shouted.

"Leaving!" she called from the deck. "And bring me back that knife," she added. "It's my favorite one."

Kell shook his head, and freed the blade from where it had lodged in the wood. "They're all you favorite.

Whatever I am, let it be enough

And strategy is just a fancy word for a special kind of common sense, the ability to see options, to make them where there were none. It's not about knowing the rules. It's about knowing how to break them.

Stories are a way to preserve one's self. To be remembered. And to forget.

You look more ready to storm a city than seduce a man.

My point, continued Rhy, is for every ten that worship you, one wants to see you burn. Those are simply the odds when it comes to people like you and I.

I'm sorry." He sounded so...earnest, which made Lila instantly suspicious. Alucard was many things, but genuine wasn't usually one of them.
"For growing on me?" she asked.
He shook his head. "For whatever happened to you. For whoever hurt you so deeply that you see things like friends and fondness as weapons instead of shields.

He wished for the first time in his life that he believed in God.

Names are important," she said, twirling the cord. "Mine is Ojka, and I have orders to keep you out." Beyond the doors, Kell let out a scream of frustration, a sob of pain. "My name is Lila Bard," she answered, drawing her favorite knife, "and I don't give a damn." Ojka

And this girl, this monster, had a dangerous, complicated gift.

He listened to the shhk of metal sliding home, then turned to find Lila waiting, her back purposely to the tavern, as if her present were already her past.

Magic," he said. Black magic. Strong magic. Dead magic. "Bad magic." Finally, Lila slipped. For the briefest moment, her eyes flicked to a chest along the wall. Kell didn't hesitate. He lunged for the top drawer, but before his fingers met the wood, a knife found his throat. It had come out of nowhere. A pocket. A sleeve. A thin blade resting just below his chin. Lila's smile was as sharp as its metal edge. "Sit down before you fall down, magic boy." Lila

A game is worth playing if you stand a chance at winning.

Your true family.

But what did that mean? Was family the ones you were born to, or the ones who took you in? Did the first years of his life weigh more than the rest?

Strange thing about forgetting spells.

Rhy was his brother.

They fade on their own.

London was his home.

Unless we don't let go."

Divest yourself of weapons, or I will do it for you

And while that seemed to be true, Holland knew that assumptions were made to take the place of facts,

Delilah Bard," she said. "We've met before. And you looked worse."
Rhy laughed silently. "I apologize for anything I might have done. I was not myself."
"I apologize for shooting you in the leg," said Lila. "I was myself entirely."
Rhy broke into his perfect smile. "I like this one," he said to Kell. "Can I borrow her?"
"You can try," said Lila, raising a brow. "But you'll be a prince without his fingers.

Kell tipped his head so that his copper hair tumbled out of his eyes, revealing not only the crisp blue of the left one but the solid black of the right. A black that ran edge to edge, filling white and iris both. There was nothing human about that eye. It was pure magic. The mark of the blood magician.

She'd ben teasing, but he clearly wasn't.

Magic bent the world. Pulled it into shape. There were fixed points. Most of the time those points were places. But sometimes, rarely, they were people.

Maybe you're right," said Victor. He was willing to admit that he felt different. "But if I'm missing something, then so are you. Life is about compromises. Or did you think because you put yourself in God's hands that He would make you all you were and more?"
"He did," growled Eli, pulling the trigger.

They were alone, the captain and the sleeping prince.

Even glass can be strong," said Rhy, "if it is thick enough.

You don't understand," gasped Eli. "No one understands." "When no one understands, that's usually a good sign that you're wrong." Eli

You told me once," said Kell, "that you were either magic's master or its slave. So which are you now?"
The screaming died in Holland's head, smothered by the hollow quiet he'd trained to take its place.
"That's what you don't understand," said Holland, letting the emptiness fold over him. "I have only ever been its slave.

Get up, get up, there are worlds to conquer.

To clever plans,' said Kell, toasting his brother. 'And dashing princes.'
'To masked magicians,' said Rhy, swiping the wine.
'To mad ideas.'
'To the Essen Tasch.'
'Wouldn't it be amazing,' murmured Rhy later, when the bottle was empty, 'if we got away with it?

She straightened. "You tried to seduce me, for information."
"You can't hold that against me forever."
"It was last night."
"Well I was running out of options, and I figured it was worth a shot."
Lila rolled her eyes. "You really know how to make a girl feel special.

Lila was nineteen. Nineteen, and every one of the years felt carved into her.

Kell would say it was impossible. What a useless word, in a world with magic.

I'd grown up an athletic child, a competitive soccer player since age 4, with stints ranging from months to years in gymnastics, softball, volleyball.

Well, the world is full of surprises. And shadow kings. And curses. Coffee?

What are we drinking to?"
"The living," said Rhy.
"The dead," said Alucard and Lila at the same time.
"We're being thorough," added Rhy.

Are you afraid yet? he would ask when the floor was slick with Eli's blood. Are you afraid?

What a waste of life, to stand around and think so much on every little thing.

But what stops one from committing sins, if they have nothing to fear?" Kell shrugged. "I've seen people sin in the name of god, and in the name of magic. People misuse their higher powers, no matter what form they take.

There are no good men in this game.

Darkness.
Everywhere.
The kind that stretched.
For seconds and hours and days.
And then.
Slowly.
The darkness lightened into dusk.

I almost always start with setting! I have to know the world before I know how to populate it. I have a tendency to play with doors - between life and death, human and monster, mundane and magic - and with 'ADSOM,' I knew I wanted to play with the physical doors between worlds.

Run, thought Victor, and he could see the response in Eli's coiled frame.
Chase me.

How many men would she have to turn to dust before one took her seriously?

She felt like a god. She dreamed of people who could fight back. Of wills strong enough to resist her.

Do you have wings? Or a tail?"
"Well no, those would get in the way. But I do have more scales."
"So does a fish."
"Go away.

He wanted you to rob a bank to prove you were a hero?" Skepticism dripped from Victor's voice. "And then what?"
"What the fuck does it look like, ass hat?" Barry gestured down at his body. "He killed me! The bastard walks right up in the middle of a demonstration he told me to do, and he shoots me.

In myths, the hero survives.
The evil is vanquished.
The world is set right.
Sometimes there are celebrations, and sometimes there are funerals.
The dead are buried. The living move on.
Nothing changes.
Everything changes.
This is a myth.
This is not a myth.

What child didn't wish to know if his bedtime stories were the stuff of fiction or of truth?

Kell had a strange feeling about the girl, but he pushed it aside.

Please tell me this is easier to take off than it was to put on."
Calla raised a brow. "You do not think Master Kell knows how?

Everything looked the same, and that felt wrong, like the world should have registered the events of the last few days, should have changed the way she had changed.

The glorious quiet that filled the air as his broken bones healed and his torn skin closed, and he knew that God approved.

Someone could call themselves a hero and still walk around killing dozens.

Pain and fear are inextricable- but pain has multiple forms.

We could be dead,' said Eli.
'That's a risk everyone takes by living.

No London is truly without magic

A queen could leave her throne.
But a mother never leaves her son.

Mysteries are always more exciting than truths.

But what did that mean? Was family the ones you were born to, or the ones who took you in? Did the first years of his life weigh more than the rest?

Sydney tugged off her shoes by the door and went to scrub the grave dirt and the lingering feel of the dead from beneath her fingernails.