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Quote by Sarah J. Maas

“What the hell happened to you?' Rhysand said before the Night Court had fully appeared around us. 'Why don't you just look inside my head?' Even as I said it, the words had no bite. I didn't bother to shove him as I stepped out of his hold. He gave me a wink. 'Where's the fun in that?' I didn't smile. 'No shoe throwing this time?' I could almost see the other words in his eyes. Come on. Play with me. I headed for the stairs that would take me to my room. 'Eat breakfast with me,' he said. There was a note in those words that made me pause. A note of what I could have sworn was desperation. Worry. I twisted, my loose clothes sliding off my shoulders, my waist. I hadn't realised how much weight I'd lost. Despite things creeping back to normal. I said, 'Don't you have other things to deal with?' 'Of course I do,' he said, shrugging. 'I have so many things to deal with that I'm sometimes tempted to unleash my power across the world and wipe the board clean. Just to buy me some damned peace.' He grinned, bowing at the waist. Even that casual mention of his power failed to chill me, awe me. 'But I'll always make time for you.' I was hungry- I hadn't yet eaten. And that was indeed worry glimmering behind the cocky, insufferable grin.”

Quote by Sarah J. Maas

Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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A Court of Mist and Fury

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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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“Tired. I was so- tired. When we were almost to the table, Rhys said, 'I felt a spike of fear this month through our lovely bond. Anything exciting happen at the wondrous Spring Court?' 'It was nothing,' I said. Because it was. And it was none of his business. I glanced sidelong at him- and rage, not worry- flicked in those eyes. I could have sworn the mountain beneath us trembled in response. 'If you know,' I said coldly, 'why even ask about it?' I dropped into my chair as he slid into his. He said quietly, 'Because these days, all I hear through the bond is nothing. Silence. Even with your shields up rather impressively most of the time, I should be able to feel you. And yet I don't. Sometimes I'll tug on the bond only to make sure you're still alive.' Darkness guttered. 'And then one day, I'm in the middle of an important meeting when terror blasts through the bond. All I get are glimpses of you and him- and then nothing. Back to silence. I'd like to know what caused such a disruption.' I served myself from the platters of food, barely caring what had been laid on the table. 'It was an argument, and the rest is none of your concern.' 'Is it why you look like grief and guilt and rage are eating you alive, bit by bit?”

WorryTiredTraumaRageSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysA Court Of Mist And Fury
Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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“I'm not going to be a part of this war you think is coming. You say I should be a weapon, not a pawn- they seem like the same to me. The only difference is who's wielding it.' 'I want your help, not to manipulate you,' he snapped. His flare of tempter made me at last lift my head. 'You want my help because it'll piss off Tamlin.' Shadows danced around his shoulders- as if the wings were trying to take form. 'Fine,' he breathed. 'I dug that grave myself, with all I did Under the Mountain. But I need your help. Again, I could feel the other unspoken words. Ask me why; push me about it. And again, I didn't want to. Didn't have the energy to. Rhys said quietly, 'I was a prisoner to her court for nearly fifty years. I was tortured and beaten and fucked until only telling myself who I was, what I had to protect, kept me from trying to find a way to end it. Please- help me keep that from happening again. To Prythian.' Some distant part of my heart ached and bled at the words, at what he'd laid bare. But Tamlin had made exceptions- he'd lightened the guards' presence, allowed me to roam a bit more freely. He was trying. We were trying. I wouldn't jeopardize that. So I went back to eating. Rhys didn't say another word.”

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Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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“Start copying the alphabet. Until your letters are perfect. And every time you get through a round, lower and raise your shield. Until that is second nature. I'll be back in an hour.' 'What?' 'Copy. The. Alphabet. Until-' 'I heard what you said.' Prick. Prick, prick, prick. 'Then get to work,' Rhys uncoiled to his feet. 'And at least have the decency to only call me a prick when you shields are back up.”

FunnySarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysA Court Of Mist And FuryCursingLearning To ReadPrick
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“You're going to be a High Lord's wife,' Rhys said. 'You'll be expected to maintain your own correspondences, perhaps even give a speech or two. And the Cauldron knows what else he and Ianthe will deem appropriate for you. Make menus for dinner parties, write thank-you letters for all those wedding gifts, embroider sweet phrases on pillows... It's a necessary skill. And, you know what? Why don't we throw in shielding while we're at it. Reading and shielding- fortunately, you can practice both together.' 'They are both necessary skills,' I said through my teeth, 'but you are not going to teach me.' 'What else are you going to do with yourself? Paint? How's that going these days, Feyre?”

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Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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“The only evidence I had at all that Rhys remained on the premises were the blank copies of the alphabet, along with several sentences I was to write every day, swapping out words, each one more obnoxious that the last. Rhys is the most handsome High Lord. Rhys is the most delightful High Lord. Rhys is the most cunning High Lord. Every day, one miserable sentence- with one changing word of varying arrogance and vanity. And every day, another simple set of instructions: shield up, shield down, shield up, shield down. Over and over and over.”

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Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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“First the shadows started- plumes of them from his back. And then, as if his rage loosened his grip on that beast he'd once told me he hated to yield to, those wings became flesh. Great, beautiful, brutal wings, membranous and clawed like a bat's, dark as night and strong as hell. Even the way he stood seemed altered- steadier, grounded. Like some final piece of him had clicked into place. But Rhysand's voice was still midnight-soft...”

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Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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