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Froschprinz - Band 2

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Isabel Shtar

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“I believe hurling is the best of us, one of the greatest and most beautiful expressions of what we can be. For me that is the perspective that death and loss cast on the game. If you could live again you would hurl more, because that is living. You'd pay less attention to the rows and the mortgage and the car and all the daily drudge. Hurling is our song and our verse, and when I walk in the graveyard in Cloyne and look at the familiar names on the headstones I know that their ownders would want us to hurl with more joy and more exuberance and more (as Frank Murphy used to tell us) abandon than before, because life is shorter than the second half of a tournament game that starts at dusk.”

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Book:Come What May
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“Somehow everything always came down to time, she realized with perfect lucidity. There was either too much or too little. It either passed too quickly or too slowly. It didn’t belong to anyone—it was simply a gift, bestowed by God, and yet eternally taken for granted. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing Time could be tamed—reigned in—and tethered, synchronized with human needs and wants. But that wasn’t the case, was it?”

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Book:Dark Night of the Soul: A sacrifice to end a life; A rescue to save a soul.
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“How much farther?” I asked after we’d gone up one floor and through another ten minutes. [...] “Uh . . . I’m not exactly sure,” Phaelan admitted. I blinked. “What do you mean you’re not sure? Where are we?” “I’m not sure of that, either.” Phaelan looked slightly embarrassed. It wasn’t a look I’d seen on him often, and considering what it implied, I didn’t want to see it on him now. I gaped at him. “We’re lost?” “I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t have to. You don’t know where we are. That’s called lost.” “The blueprints didn’t include this floor. Besides, I prefer to think of it as temporarily misplaced.”

RainePhaelan
Book:Con & Conjure
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“You can’t break into and rob Magus Silvanus’s town house.” “I never said I was.” “You didn’t have to say it; I know what you’re thinking.” I half smiled. “And because I’m a Benares, you assumed that I’d opt for the larcenous approach.” “No, ma’am.” He grinned. “Because you’re you.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “How long have you known me, Vegard?” “A little over two weeks.”

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Book:The Trouble with Demons
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“The two of you came this close to getting torn to shreds! Your father just found you, and he doesn’t want to lose you. Do you have any idea what he has been through to protect you since you got here?” [...] “No.” Talon’s voice was subdued, but only slightly. Teenage defiance still seethed beneath the surface. “He didn’t tell me.” I leaned back in my chair, blew out my breath, and closed my eyes. “And he probably won’t.” Tired had surrendered to exhausted. “He wouldn’t want you to worry. Because he loves you.” When Talon didn’t respond, I opened one eye and looked at him. “He hasn’t told you that, either, has he?” I asked wearily. “Not exactly.” My elbow was resting on the chair arm, and I dropped my head onto my upraised hand. I snorted. “Not exactly.” I shook my head. “Men.” I didn’t lift my head off my hand; it felt too good to be resting on something. I turned it about an inch and I could see Piaras just fine. His face was a shade or two short of a full, blazing blush. “I know you do.” His words tumbled out in a rush. “You don’t have to tell me.”

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Book:The Trouble with Demons
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