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Quote by Sarah J. Maas

“Lucien was having none of it. 'I knew. I knew you were lying the moment you unleashed that light in Hybern. My friend at the Dawn Court has the same power- her light is identical. And it does not do whatever horseshit you lied about it doing.' I shoved my pack off my bedroll. 'Then why not tell him? You were his faithful dog in every other sense.' His eye seemed to simmer. As if being in his own lands set that molten ore inside him rising to the surface, even with the damper on his power. 'Glad to see the mask is off, at least.' Indeed, I let him see it all- didn't alter or shape my face into anything but coldness. Lucien snorted. 'I didn't tell him for two reasons. One, it felt like kicking a male already down. I couldn't take that hope away from him.' I rolled my eyes. 'Two,' he snapped, 'I knew if I was correct and called you on it, you'd find a way to make sure I never saw her.' My nails dug into my palms hard enough to hurt, but I remained seated on the bedroll as I bared my teeth at him. 'And that's why you're here. Not because it's right and he's always been wrong, but just so you can get what you think you're owed.' 'She is my mate and in my enemy's hands-' 'I've made no secret from the start that Elain is safe and cared for.' 'And I'm supposed to believe you?' 'Yes,' I hissed. 'You are. Because if I believed for one moment that my sisters were in danger, no High Lord or king would have kept me from going to save them.”

Quote by Sarah J. Maas

Work

A Court of Wings and Ruin

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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 don't think Nesta will ever forgive me for what happened in Hybern. To her- but mostly to Elain.' 'Your wings were shredded. You were barely alive.' For that was guilt- ravaging and poisonous- in each of Cassian's words. What the others had been fighting against in the loft. 'You were in no position to save anyone.' 'I made her a promise.' The wind ruffled Cassian's hair as he squinted at the sky. 'And when it mattered, I didn't keep it.' I still dreamed of him trying to crawl toward her, reaching for her even in the semi- unconscious state the pain and blood loss had thrown him into. As Rhysand had once done for me during those last moments with Amarantha. Perhaps only a few wing beats separated us from the broad landing veranda, but I asked, 'Why do you bother, Cassian?' His hazel eyes shuttered as we smoothly landed. And I thought he wouldn't answer, especially not when Rhys gracefully landed beside us and strode in ahead with a wink. But Cassian said quietly as we headed for the dining room, 'Because I can't stay away.”

“She was hungry. She was... doing something. Learning something. ... I put a hand on my chest, leaning against the wood panels of the stair wall. Rhys's hand covered my own a heartbeat later. 'That's what I felt,' he said, 'when I saw you smile that night we dined along the Sidra.' I leaned forward, resting my brow against his chest, right over his heart. 'She still has a long way to go.' 'We all do.' He stroked a hand over my back. I leaned into the touch, savouring his warmth and strength.”

“My mind then wandered. I thought of this: I thought of how every day each of us experiences a few little moments that have just a bit more resonance than other moments—we hear a word that sticks in our mind—or maybe we have a small experience that pulls us out of ourselves, if only briefly—we share a hotel elevator with a bride in her veils, say, or a stranger gives us a piece of bread to feed to the mallard ducks in the lagoon; a small child starts a conversation with us in a Dairy Queen—or we have an episode like the one I had with the M&M cars back at the Husky station. And if we were to collect these small moments in a notebook and save them over a period of months we would see certain trends emerge from our collection—certain voices would emerge that have been trying to speak through us. We would realize that we have been having another life altogether; one we didn’t even know was going on inside us. And maybe this other life is more important than the one we think of as being real—this clunky day-to-day world of furniture and noise and metal. So just maybe it is these small silent moments which are the true story-making events of our lives.”

“Nesta was sprawled upon the stones. I knew that she was different. From however Elain had been Made... Nesta was different. Even before she took her first breath, I felt it. As if the Cauldron in making her... had been forced to give more than it wanted. As if Nesta had fought even after she went under, and had decided that if she was to be dragged into hell, she was taking that Cauldron with her. As if that finger she'd pointed was now a death-promise to the King of Hybern.”

“Elain was staring over Nesta's shoulder. At Lucien- whose face she had finally taken in. Dark brown eyes met one eye of russet and one of metal. Nesta was still weeping, still raging, still inspecting Elain- Lucien's hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, 'You're my mate.' ... Nesta, however, whirled on him. 'She is no such thing,' she said, and shoved him again. Lucien didn't move an inch. His face was pale as death as he stared at Elain. My sister said nothing, the iron ring glinting dully on her finger.”