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Holly Black

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Famous Holly Black Quotes

“It is a gown, but one such as I have never seen before. It is composed mostly of the cloth she showed me, but there are strips of other material running through it, some diaphanous and others satiny, some patterned in butterfly wings, some felted wool. Dangling threads hang from torn edges, and a few pieces of thin fabric have been wadded up to give them a new texture. The swirling patchwork she has created is at once tattered and beautiful.”

BeautifulHolly BlackThe Stolen HeirSurenWrenDressGownPatchworkTattered
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“The mortals no longer want you.' Wren shook her head, because that couldn't be true. Her mother and father loved her. Her mother cut the crusts off her sandwiches and kissed her on the tip of her nose to make her giggle. Her father cuddled up with her to watch movies and then carried her to bed when she fell asleep on the couch. She knew they loved her. And yet the certainty with which Lord Jarel spoke plucked at her terror”

LoveLyingMotherFatherParentsHolly BlackThe Stolen HeirSurenWrenLord Jarel
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“His smile dimmed, and he dropped his voice to a whisper. 'This is a real secret. You can't tell anyone. When I was little, I glamoured my mortal sister. I made her hit herself, a lot of times, over and over, and I laughed while she did. It was awful of me, and I never told her that I regretted it. I am afraid of making her remember. She might get really mad.”

RegretAwfulHolly BlackConfessionJude DuarteJudeThe Stolen HeirOakOak GreenbriarGlamoured
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“I didn't enjoy being a snake, and yet I appear to be doomed to be reminded of it for all eternity,' Cardan was saying, black curls falling across his face. He held a three-pronged fork aloft, as though to emphasise his point. 'The excess of songs hasn't helped, nor has their longevity. It's been what? Eight years? Nine? Truly, the celebratory air about the whole business has been excessive. You'd think I never did a more popular thing than sit in the dark on a throne and bite people who annoyed me. I could have always done that. I could do that now.' 'Bite people?' echoed Jude from the other end of the table. Cardan grinned at her. 'Yes, if that's what they like.' He snapped his teeth at the air as though to demonstrate. 'No one is interested in that,' Jude said, shaking her head.”

FunnyHolly BlackJude DuarteCardan GreenbriarJudeCardanThe Stolen HeirMoaningExcessiveThe Prisoner S Throne
Book:The Prisoner’s Throne
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“Have I ever told you how much you sound like Madoc when you talk about murder?' Cardan said, opening one eye. 'Because you do.' Oak expected his sister to be angry, but she only laughed. 'That must be what you like about me.' 'That you're terrifying?' he asked, his drawl becoming exaggeratedly languorous, almost a purr. 'I adore it.”

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Book:The Prisoner’s Throne
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“So I am going to run away from Faerie. Like you.' That's not how I'd thought of myself, as a runaway. I was someone with nowhere to go. Waiting until I was older. Or less afraid. Or more powerful. 'The Prince of Elfhame can't up and disappear.' 'They'd probably be happier if I did,' he told me. 'I'm the reason my father is in exile. The reason my mother married him in the first place. My one sister and her girlfriend had to take care of me when I was little, even though they were barely more than kids themselves. My other sister almost got killed lots of times to keep me safe. Things will be easier without me around. They'll see that.' 'They won't,' I told him, trying to ignore the intense surge of envy that came with knowing he would be missed.”

EnvyHolly BlackJude DuarteCardan GreenbriarThe Stolen HeirSurenWrenOakOak GreenbriarRun Away
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“There are rumours that Cardan never wanted the throne, that he will hand it over to Oak willingly at some vague future time. But when I think of High King Cardan with his black curls and cruel mouth, the way he behaves- silly and dangersome all at once- I don't believe he would relinquish power. He might, however, trick Oak into going on a quest he wouldn't return from. Build him up with stories of honour and valiant deeds.”

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Book:The Stolen Heir
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“Oak's eyes widen satisfyingly at the sound of my voice. 'How are you speaking?' 'I used a shard of Mab's bones,' I tell him, and if I shiver a little at the memory, he cannot guess the reason. 'So you're saying that while my father and I were asleep, you found the reliquary- all by yourself- and then single-handedly subdued Lady Nore?' He laughs. 'You might have woken me. I could have done something, surely. Applauded at the right moments? Held your bag?' I am flattered into a small smile.”

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Book:The Stolen Heir
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“I take the comb from a pocket of my new dress and then hesitate. If I begin to untangle my nimbus of snarls, he will see how badly my hair is matted and be reminded of where he found me. He stands. Good. He will leave, and then I will be able to wrangle my hair alone. But instead he steps behind me and takes the comb from my hands. 'Let me do that,' he says, taking strands of my hair in his fingers. 'It's the colour of primroses.' My shoulders tense. I am unused to people touching me. 'You don't need to-' I start. 'It's no trouble,' he says. 'I had three older sisters brushing and braiding mine, no matter how I howled. I had to learn to do theirs, in self-defence. And my mother...' His fingers are clever. He holds each lock at the base, slowly teasing out the knots at the very end and then working backward to the scalp. Under his hands, it becomes smooth ribbons. If I had done this, I would have yanked half of it out in frustration. 'Your mother...,' I echo, prompting him to continue in a voice that shakes only a little. He begins to braid, sweeping my hair up so that thick plaits become something like his circlet, wrapping around my head. 'When we were in the mortal world, away from her servants, she needed help arranging it.' His voice is soft. This, along with the slightly painful pull against my scalp, the brush of his fingertips against my neck as he separates a section, the slight frown of concentration on his face, is overwhelming. I am not accustomed to someone being this close. When I look up, his smile is all invitation. We are no longer children, playing games and hiding beneath his bed, but I feel as though this is a different kind of game, one where I do not understand the rules. With a shiver, I take up the mirror from the dresser. In this hair, and with this dress, I look pretty. The kind of pretty that allows monsters to deceive people into forests, into dances where they will find their doom.”

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Book:The Stolen Heir
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“When it is time to sleep, Tiernan and Oak wrap themselves in bearskins. Oak drapes one over my shoulders. I say nothing to indicate that I don't need it, that I am never too cold. When we lie down by the fire, he watches me. The light dances in his eyes. 'Come here,' he says, beckoning with a hand. I am not sure I know the me who moves, who shifts so that I am resting my head against his shoulder. The me who feels his breath against my hair and the pressure of his splayed fingers at the small of my back. His feet tangle with mine, my toes brushing against the fur just above his hooves. My fingers are resting against his stomach, and I cannot help feeling the hard planes of him, the muscles and the scars. When I move my hand, his breath catches. We both go still. Tiernan, close to the fire, turns in his sleep. In the firelight, the prince's amber eyes are molten gold. I am aware of my skin in a way I have never been before, of the slight movements of my limbs, of the rise and fall of my chest. I can hear the beat of his heart against my cheek. I feel as though I am shouting kiss me with every restless shift of my body. But he does not, and I am too much of a coward to do more than lie there and yearn until my eyes drift closed at last.”

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Book:The Stolen Heir
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“He wants me to be charmed by him so that I will stay by his side and do what he asks of me. No doubt he believes that a little attention and a few smiles will be all it requires of him. He expects me to be as malleable as one of the ladies of the Court. So much of me wants to give in and pretend with him that it makes me hot with rage. If he wants to charm me, the least I can do is make it cost him. I won't settle for smiles and a dance. I am going to call his bluff, I am going to prove to myself- prove to us both- that his flirtation isn't sincere.”

Holly BlackDistrustThe Stolen HeirSurenWrenOakOak GreenbriarCharmedFlirtationCall Their Bluff
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“A passerby discovered a toddler sitting on the chilly concrete on an alley, playing with the wrapper of a cat food container. By the time she was brought to the hospital, her limbs were blue with cold. She was a wizened little thing, too thin, made of sticks. She knew only one word, her name. Wren. As she grew, her skin retained a slight bluish cast, resembling skimmed milk. Her foster parents bundled her up in jackets and coats and mittens and gloves, but unlike her sister, she was never cold. Her lip colour changed like a mood ring, staying bluish and purple even in summer, turning pink only when close to a fire. And she could play in the snow for hours, constructing elaborate tunnels and mock-fighting with icicles, coming inside only when called. Although she appeared bony and anaemic, she was strong. By the time she was eight, she could lift bags of groceries that her adoptive mother struggled with. By the time she was nine, she was gone.”

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Book:The Stolen Heir
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“While the exterior of the Citadel is formed of giant slabs of clear, bright ice, some of the interior walls are enhanced by having things frozen inside the ice, resulting in something like wallpaper. Stones suspended, as though forever in midfall. Bones, picked cleaned, occasionally used to form sculptures. Roses, their petals forever preserved in their full flowering. The room's walls have two faerie women frozen inside them, preserved so that they never decayed into moss and stone, like the rest of the Folk. Two faerie women, dressed in finery, crowns on their heads. The Hall of Queens.”

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Book:The Stolen Heir
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“Lulled by his conversation, I let myself believe I had fooled him at the very moment he was fooling me. He was as deceptive as the rest of his family. More, maybe. He never let down his guard with me, not once. Too late, I understand what's terrifying about his charm. He seems entirely open when he is unknowable. Every smile is painted on, a mask.”

CharmHolly BlackFooledThe Stolen HeirSurenWrenDeceptiveOakOak GreenbriarUnknowable
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“What's the number of times that someone tried to assassinate you?' He gives a one-shouldered shrug, his attention on the tableau below. 'Hard to know, but I'd guess there were a few dozen attempts since my sister came to power.' That would be more than twice a year for every year since I met him. And that scar on his neck suggests that someone got very, very close. I think of him as he was in the woods at thirteen, wanting to run away. Angry and afraid. I think of him lying on the sled this morning. I poison everything I touch. Every time I feel as though I know him, it seems there is another Oak underneath.”

MysteryHolly BlackThe Stolen HeirSurenWrenOakOak GreenbriarKnowing SomeoneAssassinateAssassination Attempts
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“Whom have you fallen in love with?' I ask. 'Well, there was you,' the prince says. 'When we were children.' 'Me?' I ask incredulously. 'You didn't know?' He appears to be merry in the face of my astonishment. 'Oh yes. Though you were a year my senior, and it was hopeless, I absolutely mooned over you. When you were gone from Court, I refused any food but tea and toast for a month.' I cannot help snorting at the sheer absurdity of his statement. He puts a hand to my heart. 'Ah, and now you laugh. It is my curse to adore cruel women.”

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Book:The Stolen Heir
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“Do you want-?' he starts, but she is already pushing up her dress. 'I want,' she says. 'That's my problem. I want and I want and I want.' 'What do you want?' he asks, voice soft. 'Everything. Charm me. Rip me open. Ruin me. Go too far.' He shudders at her words, shaking his head against them. She goes on, whispering against his skin. 'You cannot understand. I am a chasm that will never be full. I am hunger. I am need. I cannot be sated. IF you try, I will swallow you up. I will take all of you and want more. I will use you. I will drain you until you are nothing more than a husk.' 'Use me, then,' he whispers, mouth on her throat. Then her lips are against his, and there is no more talking for a long time.”

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Book:The Prisoner’s Throne
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“What I feel is not like the ballads.' 'No an affliction, then?' Oak raises an eyebrow. 'No fever?' Tiernan gives him an exasperated look- one with which the prince is very familiar. 'It is more feeling that there is a part of me I have left somewhere and I am always looking for.' 'So he's liking a missing phone?' 'Someone ought to pitch you into the sea,' ...”

LoveFunnyHolly BlackOther HalfThe Stolen HeirOakOak GreenbriarThe Prisoners ThroneMissing PieceTiernan
Book:The Prisoner’s Throne
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