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Quote by Maria V. Snyder

“Rand rubbed his hands over his face. His anger had dissipated. “I’m sorry, Yelena. I was backed into a corner and I couldn’t get out without hurting someone.”

Quote by Maria V. Snyder

Work

Poison Study

In this fantasy novel, a young woman finds herself in a perilous situation after being kissed by a man who has poisoned her. She must navigate the treacherous waters of court politics and alliances to find a cure for her poisoned kiss. The story delves into themes of power, betrayal, and the struggle for survival in a world where magic and intrigue are the norm. more

Author

Maria V. Snyder
Maria V. Snyder

Maria V. Snyder is an American author of science fiction and fantasy novels. Known for her unique magical systems and engaging storylines, her works have gained popularity since their publication in 2005. The specific birth and death dates are unknown. more

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“Yelena.” I halted in the doorway, looking back over my shoulder. “You once said I wasn’t ready to believe your reason for killing Reyad. I’ll believe you now.” “But I’m not ready to tell you,” I said and left the room.”

“I want you to have this.” He extended his hand. On his palm sat the beautiful butterfly he had carved. Silver spots on the wings glinted in the sunlight, and a silver chain hung from a small hole drilled into its body. Valek looped the necklace around my neck. “When I carved this statue, I was thinking about you. Delicate in appearance, but with a strength unnoticed at first glance.” His eyes met mine.”

““Run,” he whispered. “Run.” “No, Rand,” I said, brushing the dirt from his face. “I’m tired of running.” “Forgive me, please.” He clutched my hand as his eyes beseeched me through tears of pain. “You’re forgiven.” He sighed once, then stopped breathing. The shine in his brown eyes dulled. I pulled his hood over his head.”

“That's one thing that's always, like, been a difference between, like, the performing arts, and being a painter, you know. A painter does a painting, and he paints it, and that's it, you know. He has the joy of creating it, it hangs on a wall, and somebody buys it, and maybe somebody buys it again, or maybe nobody buys it and it sits up in a loft somewhere until he dies. But he never, you know, nobody ever, nobody ever said to Van Gogh, 'Paint a Starry Night again, man!' You know? He painted it and that was it.”