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Sarah J. Maas

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“My blood froze as a creeping, leeching cold lurched by. I couldn't see anything, just a vague shimmering in the corner of my vision, but my horse stiffened beneath me. I willed my face in to blackness. Even the balmy spring woods seemed to recoil, to wither and freeze. The cold thing whispered past, circling. I could see nothing, but I could feel it. And in the back of my mind, an ancient hollow voice whispered: I will grind your bones between my claws; I will drink your marrow; I will feast on your flesh. I am what you fear; I am what you dread... Look at me. Look at me. I tried to swallow, but my throat had closed up. I kept my eyes on the trees, on the canopy, on anything but the cold mass circling us again and again. Look at me. I wanted to look- I needed to see what it was. Look at me. I stared at the coarse trunk of a distant elm, thinking of pleasant things. Like hot bread and full bellies- I will fill my belly with you. I will devour you. Look at me. A starry, unclouded night sky, peaceful and glittering and endless Summer sunrise. A refreshing bath in a forest pool. Meetings with Issac, losing myself for an hour or two in his body, in our shared breaths. It was all around us, so cold that my teeth chattered. Look at me. I stared and stared at the ever-nearing tree trunk, not daring to blink. My eyes strained, filling with tears, and I let them fall, refusing to acknowledge the thing that lurked around us. Look at me. And just as I thought I would give in, when my eyes so much from not looking, the cold disappeared in to the brush, leaving a trail of still, recoiling plants behind. Only after Lucien exhaled and our horses shook their heads did I dare sag in my seat. Even the crocuses seemed to straighten. 'What was that?' I asked, brushing the tears from my face. Lucien's face was still pale. 'You don't want to know.' 'Please. Was it that... Suriel you mentioned?' Lucien's russet eye was dark as he answered hoarsely. 'No. It was a creature that should not be in these lands. We call it the Bogge. You can not hunt it, and you cannot kill it. Even with your beloved ash arrows.' 'Why can't I look at it?' 'Because when you look at it- when you acknowledge it- that's when it becomes real. That's when it can kill you.”

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Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“I can't just give up on it, on them. No matter what you say.' Even if I had been a fool- a stupid, human fool- to believe my father would ever actually come for me. Tamlin eyed me sidelong. 'You're not giving up on them.' 'Living in luxury, stuffing myself with food? How is that not-' 'They are cared for- they are fed and comfortable.' Fed and comfortable. If he couldn't lie, if it was true, then.. then it was beyond anything I'd ever dared hope for. Then... my vow to my mother was fulfilled. It stunned me enough that I didn't say anything for a moment as we walked. My life was now owned by the Treaty, but... perhaps I'd been freed in another sort of way.”

FoolSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronVowA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinPromisesTreatyGiving Up On Someone
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“The golden-haired High Fae's mask gleamed with the last rays of the afternoon sunshine. 'Before you ask again: the food is safe for you to eat.' He pointed to the chair at the other end of the table. No sign of his claws. When I didn't move, he sighed sharply. 'What do you want, then?' I said nothing. To eat, flee, save my family. Lucien drawled from his seat along the length of the table. 'I told you so, Tamlin.' He flicked a glance toward his friend. 'Your skills with females have definitely become rusty in recent decades.”

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“What do you plan to do with me now that I'm here?' Tamlin's eyes didn't leave my face. 'Nothing. Do whatever you want.' 'So, I'm not here to be your slave?' I dared ask. Lucien choked on his wine. But Tamlin didn't smile. 'I don't keep slaves.' I ignored the release of tightness in my chest at that. 'But what am I to do with my life here?' I pressed. 'Do you- do you wish me to earn my keep? To work?' a stupid question, if he hadn't considered it, but... but I had to know. Tamlin stiffened. 'What you do with your life isn't my problem.' Lucien pointedly cleared his throat, and Tamlin flashed him a glare. After an exchanged look I couldn't read, Tamlin sighed and said. 'Don't you have any... interests?' 'No.' Not entirely true, but I wasn't about to explain the painting to him. Not when he was apparently having a great deal of trouble just talking to me civilly. Lucien muttered. 'So typically human.' Tamlin's mouth quirked to the side. 'Do whatever you want with your time. Just stay out of trouble.”

LifeCuriousSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinLucienInterestsEnquiring
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“It's been a few decades since I last saw one of you,' Lucien drawled, 'but you humans never change, so I don't think I'm wrong in asking why you find our company to be so unpleasant, when surely the men back home aren't much to look at.' At the other end of the table, Tamlin gave his emissary a long, warning look. Lucien ignored it. 'You're High Fae,' I said tightly. 'I'd ask why you'd even bother inviting me here at all- or dining with me.' Fool- I should have been killed ten times over already. Lucien said. 'True. But indulge me: you're a human woman, and yet you'd rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this'- he waved a hang at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face- 'surely we're not so miserable to look at.' Typical faerie vanity and arrogance. That, at least, the legends have been right about. I tucked the knowledge away. 'Unless you have someone back home. Unless there's a line of suitors out the door of your hovel that makes us seem like worms in comparison.”

VanitySarah J MaasArroganceFeyreFeyre ArcheronA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinFaeriesLucienHigh Fae
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“Alis looked me over from head to toe. 'You think a bit of rope snapping in my face will keep me from breaking your bones?' My blood went cold. 'You think that will do anything against one of us?' I might have kept apologising were it not for the sneer she gave me. I crossed my arms. 'It was a warning bell to give me time to run. Not a trap.' She seemed poised to spit on me, but then her sharp brown eyes narrowed. 'You can outrun us, either, girl.' 'I know,' I said, my heart calming at last. 'But at least I wouldn't face my death unaware.' Alis barked out a laugh. 'My master gave his word that you could live here- live, not die. We will obey.”

AngrySarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronThreateningFaeA Court Of Thorns And RosesFaeriesTrapAlis
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“So is this what you do with your lives? Spare humans from the Treaty and have fine meals?' I gave a pointed glance toward Tamlin's baldric, the warrior's clothes, Lucien's sword. Lucien smirked. 'We also dance with the spirits under the full moon and snatch human babes from their cradles to replace with changelings-”

FunnySarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinFaeriesLucienJokingSmirking
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“Lucien whipped his head to the right, listening, his eye whirring softly. The hair on my neck stood, and I had my bow drawn in a heartbeat, pointing in the direction Lucien stared. 'Put your bow down,' he whispered, his voice low and rough. 'Put your damned bow down, human, and look straight ahead.' I did as he said, the hair on my arms rising as something rustled in the brush. 'Don't react,' Lucien said, forcing his gaze ahead, too, the metal eye going still and silent. 'No matter what you feel or see, don't react. Don't look. Just stare ahead.' I started trembling, gripping the reins in my sweaty hands. I might have wondered if this was some kind of horrible joke, but Lucien's face had gone so very, very pale. Our horses' ears flattened against their heads, but they continued walking, as if they'd also understood Lucien's command. And then I felt it.”

ThreatScaredSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronA Court Of Thorns And RosesTremblingHorsesLucienBogge
Author:Sarah J. Maas
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“Please,' I breathed. 'My father-' 'Your father?' He lifted his stare to the gates behind me, and his growl rumbled through me as he bared his teeth. 'Why don't you look again?' He released me. I staggered back a step, whirling, sucking in a breath to tell my father to run, but- But he wasn't there. Only a pale bow and a quiver of pale arrows remained, propped up against the gates. Mountain ash. They hadn't been there moments before, hadn't- They rippled, as if they were nothing but water- and then the bow and quiver became a large pack, laden with supplies. Another ripple- and there were my sisters, huddled together, weeping. My knees buckled. 'What is...' I didn't finish the question. My father now stood there, still hunched and beckoning. A flawless rendering. 'Weren't you warned to keep your wits about you?' Tamlin snapped. 'That your human senses would betray you?' He stepped beyond me and let out a snarl so vicious that whatever the thing was by the gates shimmered with light and darted out as fast as lightning streaking through the dark. 'Fool,' he said to me, turning. 'If you're ever going to run away, at least do it in the daytime.' He stared me down, and the fangs slowly retracted. The claws remained. 'There are worse things than the Bogge prowling these woods at night. That thing at the gates isn't one of them- and it would have taken a good while devouring you.”

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Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“—Porque cuando se escriban las leyendas, no quería que me recordarán como alguien que escurrió el bulto. Quiero que mi futuro hijo sepa que yo estuve ahí, que pelee contra Amarantha al final, aunque mis esfuerzos de poco sirvieran. Parpadeé, y esta vez no era por el brillo del sol. —Porque —continuó él, los ojos fijos en los míos— no queria que pelearas sola. O murieras sola.”

FeyreRhysandRhysA Court Of Thorns And RosesAcotarUna Corte De Rosas Y Espinas
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“—Porque cuando se escriban las leyendas, no quería que me recordarán como alguien que escurrió el bulto. Quiero que mi futuro hijo sepa que yo estuve ahí, que pelee contra Amarantha al final, aunque mis esfuerzos de poco sirvieran. Parpadeé, y esta vez no era por el brillo del sol. —Porque —continuó él, los ojos fijos en los míos— no queria que pelearas sola. O murieras sola.” –Capítulo 46, pág. 451”

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“...from the opposite side of the meadow, dozens of shimmering shapes floated out across the grass, little more than mirages of moonlight. That was when the singing began. It was a collective voice, but in it existed both male and female- two sides of the same coin, singing to each other in a call and response. I raised a hand to my throat as their music rose and they danced. Ghostly and ethereal, they waltzed across the field, no more than slender slants of moonlight. 'What are they?' ''Will-o'-the-wisps- spirits of air and light,' he said softly. 'Come to celebrate the solstice.' 'They're beautiful.' His lips grazed my neck as he murmured against my skin. 'Dance with me, Feyre.' 'Really?' I turned and found my face mere inches from him. He cracked a lazy smile. 'Really.' As though I were nothing but air myself, he pulled me into a sweeping dance.”

DancingDanceSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinMagicalWill O The Wisps
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“What do you know?' Nesta breathed. 'You're just a half-wild beast with the nerve to bark orders at all hours of the day and night. Keep it up and someday- someday, Feyre, you'll have no one left to remember you or to care that you ever existed.' ... I'd heard the words before- and knew she only repeated them because I'd flinched the first time she spat them. They still burned anyway.”

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“My fingers stung and ached, but I still held on to the rose as I said, 'I don't know why I feel so tremendously ashamed of myself for leaving them. Why it feels so selfish and horrible to paint. I shouldn't- shouldn't feel that way, should I? I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it.' The rose hung limply from my fingers. 'All those years, what I did for them... And they didn't try to stop you from taking me.' There it was, the giant pain that cracked me in two if I thought about it too long. 'I don't know why I expected them to- why I believed that the puca's illusion was real that night. I don't know why I bother still thinking about it. Or still caring.' He was silent long enough that I added. 'Compared to you- to your borders and magic being weakened- I suppose my self-pity is absurd.' 'If it grieves you,' he said, the words caressing my bones, 'then I don't think it's absurd at all.' 'Why?' A flat question and I chucked the rose into the bushes. He took my hands. His callused fingers, strong and sturdy, were gentle as he lifted my bleeding hand to his mouth and kissed my palm. As if that were answer enough. His lips were smooth against my skin, his breath warm, and my knees buckled as he lifted my other hand to his mouth and kissed it, too. Kissed it carefully- in a way that made heat begin pounding in my core, between my legs. When he withdrew, my blood shone on his mouth. I glanced at my hands, which he still held, and found the wounds gone. I looked at his face again, at his gilded mask, the tanness of his skin, the red of his blood-covered lips as he murmured. 'Don't feel bad for one moment about doing what brings you joy.' He stepped closer, releasing one of my hands to tuck the rose I'd plucked behind my ear. I didn't know how it had gotten into his hand, or where the thorns had gone.”

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Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“So you'll let Lucien take you on hunts and-' 'Lucien,' I interrupted quietly but not softly, 'doesn't pretend to be anything what he is.' 'What's that supposed to mean?' he growled, but his claws stayed retracted, even as he clenched his hands into fists at his sides. I was definitely walking a dangerous line, but I didn't care. Even if he'd offered me sanctuary. I didn't have to fall at his feet. 'It means,' I said with that same cold quiet, 'That I don't know you. I don't know who you are, or what you really are, or what you want.' 'It means you don't trust me.' 'How can I trust a faerie? Don't you delight in killing and tricking us?' His snarl set the flames of the candles guttering. 'You aren't what I had in mind for a human- believe me.' I could almost feel the wound deep in my chest as it ripped open and all those awful, silent words came pouring out. Illiterate, ignorant, unremarkable, proud, cold- all spoken from Nesta's mouth, all echoing in my head with her sneering voice. I pinched my lips together. He winced and lifted a hand slightly, as if about to reach for me. 'Feyre,' he began- softly enough that I just shook my head and left the room. He didn't stop me. But that afternoon, when I went to retrieve my crumpled list from the wastebasket, it was gone. And my pile of books had been disturbed- the titles out of order.”

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“Shortcoming- another one of my shortcomings. I rubbed my brows with my thumb and forefinger. I'd been equally foolish for feeling a shred of pity for him- for the lone, brooding faerie, for someone I had so stupidly thought would care if he met someone who perhaps felt the same, perhaps understood- in my ignorant, insignificant human way- what it was like to bear the weight of caring for others. I should have let his hand bleed that night, should have known better than to think that maybe- maybe there would be someone, human or faerie or whatever, who could understand what my life- what I- had become these past few years.”

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“There are days,' Nesta said as she paused in front of the door to her room across from mine, 'when I want to ask him if he remembers the years he almost let us starve to death.' 'You spent every copper I could get, too,' I reminded her. 'I knew you could always get more. And if you couldn't, then I wanted to see if he would ever try to do it himself, instead of carving those bits of wood. If he would actually go out and fight for us. I couldn't take care of us, not the way you did. I hated you for that. But I hated him more. I still do.”

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“...a flash of colour amid a shadowy, gloomy background made me stop, a riot of colour and texture that compelled me to face the gilded frame. I'd never- never- seen anything like it. It's just a still life, a part of me said. And it was: a green glass vase with an assortment of flowers drooping over its narrow top, blossoms and leaves of every shape and size and colour- roses, tulips, morning glory, goldenrod, maiden's lace, peonies... The skill it must have taken to make them look so lifelike, to make them more than lifelike... Just a vase of flowers against a dark background- but more than that; the flowers seemed to be vibrant with their own light, as if in defiance of the shadows gathered around them. The mastery needed to make the glass vase hold that light, to bend the light with the water within, as if the vase did indeed have weight to it atop its stone pedestal... Remarkable.”

ArtLightPaintingSarah J MaasColourAweFeyreFeyre ArcheronA Court Of Thorns And RosesStill Life
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“How's your hand?' He flexed his bandaged hand, studying the white bindings, stark and clean against his sun-kissed skin. 'I didn't thank you.' 'You don't need to.' But he shook his head, and his golden hair caught and held the morning light as if it were spun from the sun itself.”

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Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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