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Quote by Sarah J. Maas

“When are you going to talk about how you wrote a letter to Tamlin, telling him you've left for good?' The question hit me so viciously that I sniped, 'How about when you talk about how you tease and taunt Mor to hide whatever it is you feel for her?' Because I had no doubt that he was well aware of the role he played in their little tangled web. ... Cassian let out a startled, rough laugh. 'Old news.' 'I have a feeling that's what she probably says about you.' ... But the question he'd asked swarmed in my skull. You've left for good, you've left for good, you've left for good. I had- I'd meant it. But without knowing what he thought, if he'd even care that much... No, I knew he'd care. He'd probably trashed the manor in his rage. If my mere mention of him suffocating me had caused him to destroy his study, then this... I had been frightened by those fits of pure rage, cowed by them. And it had been love- I had loved him so deeply, so greatly, but...”

Quote by Sarah J. Maas

Work

A Court of Mist and Fury

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Author

Sarah J. Maas
Sarah J. Maas

Sarah J. Maas is an American author known for her fantasy novels. Her works are celebrated for their rich imagination, complex characters, and gripping plots. Born on March 5, 1986, Maas has developed a passion for writing from a young age and has become a successful author in her own right. more

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“I'd been in love, and I'd meant it- the happiness, the lust, the peace... I'd felt all of those things. Once. ... But maybe those things had blinded me, too. Maybe they'd been a blanket over my eyes about the temper. The need for control, the need to protect that ran so deep he'd locked me up. Like a prisoner.”

“I made to jump off the stone, but he gripped my chin, the movement too fast to detect. His words were a lethal caress as he said, 'Did you enjoy the sight of me kneeling before you?' I knew he could hear my heart as it ratcheted into a thunderous beat. I gave him a hateful little smirk, anyway, yanking my chin out of his touch and leaping off the stone. I might have aimed for him feet. And he might have shifted out of the way just enough to avoid it. 'Isn't that all you males are good for, anyway?' But the words were tight, near breathless. His answering smile evoked silken sheets and jasmine-scented breezes at midnight.”

“A large main room, with a small, shut door in the back. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls, crammed with bric-a-brac; books, shells, dolls, herbs, pottery, shoes, crystals, more books, jewels... From the ceiling and wood rafters hung all manner of chains, dead birds, dresses, ribbons, gnarled bits of wood, strands of pearls... A junk shop- of some immortal horder. And that hoarder... In the gloom of the cottage, there sat a large spinning wheel, cracked and dulled with age. And before that ancient spinning wheel, her back to me, sat the Weaver. Her thick hair was of richest onyx, tumbling down to her slender waist as she worked the wheel, snow-white hands feeding and pulling the thread around a thorn-sharp spindle. She looked young- her grey gown simple but elegant, sparkling faintly in the dim forest light through the windows as she sang in a voice of glittering gold.”

“Above her young, supple body, beneath her black, beautiful hair, her skin was grey- wrinkled and sagging and dry. And where eyes should have gleamed instead lay rotting black pins. Her lips had withered to nothing but deep, dark lines around a hole full of jagged stumps of teeth- like she had gnawed on too many bones. And I knew she would be gnawing on my bones soon if I did not get out. Her nose- perhaps once pert and pretty, now half-caved in- flared as she sniffed in my direction.”