Dagger And The Rose Quotes

Ethan stared at Krysta. A teasing gleam entered his eyes, making Étienne narrow his own as his hackles rose. Offering Krysta a flirtatious grin, Ethan said, "I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours."
In a heartbeat, Étienne drew a dagger and threw it.
The hilt struck Ethan right in the center of his forehead, snapping his head back. "Ow! Shhhhit! What the hell, man?"
Krysta gaped up at Étienne, who squirmed as everyone at the table stared at him.
He cleared his throat , but didn't know what to say. He hadn't really meant to do that. He had just reacted.
"Oh yeah," Sheldon said. "He has fallen and he has fallen hard. ~ Dianne Duvall

It was because they were two parts of a whole. He did not belong to her. And she did not belong to him. It was never about belonging to someone. It was about belonging together. ~ Renee Ahdieh

The warm sound of her laughter stole through Khalid's skin, heating the coldest reaches of his soul. ~ Renee Ahdieh

You deserve someone who will feel you at her side without needing to see you. And I've only felt that way about one boy. ~ Renee Ahdieh

Do you know why I adore roses?" Shahrzad untied the knot of his tikka sash with deliberate slowness. "I've always loved them for their beauty and their scent, but--"
"It's because of their thorns." His muscles tensed at her touch. "Because there's more to them than first meets the eye. ~ Renee Ahdieh

Because when I kiss you, I want yours to be the first... and last lips I ever kiss. ~ Renee Ahdieh

I-" Irsa took a careful breath to steady her words. " I have felt alone for most of my life. Until you." She placed the shell on his chest. " But I promise I won't feel alone anymore. I will never forget." She stood on shaky feet. "I will always remember."
"I love you Rahim al-Din Walad . Thank you for loving me in return. ~ Renee Ahdieh

I told you before, Jem, that you would not leave me," Will said, his bloody hand on the hilt of the dagger. " And you are still with me. When I breath, I will think of you, for without you I would have been dead years ago. When I wake up and when I sleep, when I lift up my hands to defend myself or when I lie down to die, you will be with me. You say we are born again. I say there is a river that divides the dead and the living. What I do know is that if we are born again, I will meet you in another life, if there is a river, you will wait on the shores for me to come to you, so we can cross together." Will took a deep breath and let go of the knife. He drew his hand back. The cut on his palm was already healing- the result of the half dozen iratzes on his skin. " You hear that, James Carstairs? We are bound, you and I, over the divide of death, down through whatever generations may come. Forever."
He rose to his feet and looked down at the knife. The knife was Jem's, the blood was his. This spot of ground, whether he could ever find it again, whether he lived to try, would be theirs.
He turned around to walk to Balios, towards Wales and Tessa. He did not look back. ~ Cassandra Clare

The power behind words lies with the person. ~ Renee Ahdieh

Because at that moment, with the press of Rahim's lips to hers, with the touch of his tongue sending wildfire through her veins, she knew she would always be home here.
With this boy. In this moment. In this time.
And that her heart would never be lonely again. ~ Renee Ahdieh

Then how does one go about making the impossible, possible ? ~ Renee Ahdieh

The Yamato spirit is not a tame, tender plant, but a wild--in the sense of natural--growth; it is indigenous to the soil; its accidental qualities it may share with the flowers of other lands, but in its essence it remains the original, spontaneous outgrowth of our clime. But its nativity is not its sole claim to our affection. The refinement and grace of its beauty appeal to our aesthetic sense as no other flower can. We cannot share the admiration of the Europeans for their roses, which lack the simplicity of our flower. Then, too, the thorns that are hidden beneath the sweetness of the rose, the tenacity with which she clings to life, as though loth or afraid to die rather than drop untimely, preferring to rot on her stem; her showy colours and heavy odours--all these are traits so unlike our flower, which carries no dagger or poison under its beauty, which is ever ready to depart life at the call of nature, whose colours are never gorgeous, and whose light fragrance never palls. Beauty of colour and of form is limited in its showing; it is a fixed quality of existence, whereas fragrance is volatile, ethereal as the breathing of life. So in all religious ceremonies frankincense and myrrh play a prominent part. There is something spirituelle in redolence. When the delicious perfume of the sakura quickens the morning air, as the sun in its course rises to illumine first the isles of the Far East, few sensations are more serenely exhilarating than to inhale, as it were, the v ~ Inazo Nitobe

As always. As ever. As a rose to the sun. ~ Renee Ahdieh