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Fourth Wing

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Rebecca Yarros

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“You're actually going to help me?' 'I've been helping you for months.' His hand flexes at my waist, and I swear I can feel the warmth of his touch through my cloak and leathers. 'No, you sent Liam to help. He's been helping me for months. My forehead puckers. 'Weeks. Almost months. Whatever.' He has the nerve to look offended. 'I'm the one who burst through your door and killed everyone who attacked you, and then I removed the other threat to your life with a very public, very polarising display of vengeance. Liam didn't do that. I did.' 'The crowd wasn't polarised. They were all for it. I was there.' 'You were torn. In fact, you begged Tairn not to kill her, damn well knowing she'd just come after you again.”

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Book:Fourth Wing
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“It was a mistake. You and I are going to be stationed together for the rest of our lives, never able to escape the other. Getting involved- even on a physical level- is a colossal blunder. No point talking about it.' I barely keep from clutching at my chest to see if all my organs are where they're supposed to be, since it feels like he just eviscerated me with four sentences. But he had been just as into it as I was. I was there, and there was no mistaking that kind of... enthusiasm. But maybe it was the churam. 'What if I want to talk about it?' 'Then feel free, but it doesn't mean I have to be a part of the conversation. We're both allowed our boundaries, and this is one of mine.”

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Book:Fourth Wing
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“Here's the thing, Sorrengail. Hope is a fickle, dangerous thing. It steals your focus and aims it toward the possibilities instead of keeping it where it belongs- on the probabilities.' 'So I'm supposed to what? Not hope that I live? Just plan for death?' 'You're supposed to focus on the things that can kill you so you find ways not to die.”

HopeRealisticPossibilitiesVioletFourth WingViolet SorrengailRebecca YarrosXaden RiorsonXadenProbabilities
Book:Fourth Wing
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“I'm more dangerous than you think,' I flat-out bluster. 'So I see. I'm quaking in my boots.' The corner of his mouth rises in a mocking smile. Fucking. Asshole. I flip the daggers in my hand, pinching them at the tips, then flick my wrists and fire them past his head, one on each side. They land solidly in the trunk of the tree behind him. 'You missed.' He doesn't even flinch. 'Did I?' I reach for my last two blades. 'Why don't you back up a couple of steps and test that theory?' Curiosity flares in his eyes, but it's gone in the next second, masked by cold, mocking indifference. Every one of my senses is on high alert, but the shadows around me don't slide in as he moves backward, his eyes locked with mine. His back hits the tree, and the hilts of my daggers brush his ears. 'Tell me again that I missed,' I threaten, taking the dagger in my right hand by the tip. 'Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you're really a violent little thing, aren't you?' An appreciative smile curves his perfect lips as shadows dance up the trunk of the oak, taking the form of fingers. They pluck the daggers from the tree and bring them to Xaden's waiting hands.”

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Book:Fourth Wing
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“I like to imagine that Adam's tongue, his palate and his lips were always on fire, that the air he breathed was kindled to incandescence each time he cried out in sorrow or delight. If fiction can be said to have a function, it is to release that primary fury of which language, even now, is miraculously capable - from the dry mud of daily use. So that furred, spotted and striped, it may - as it did in Eden - scrawl under every tree as revelation.”

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Book:The Jade Cabinet
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“I don't think I'll bother sleep again.' I shoot a look sideways at his irritatingly gorgeous profile. 'And if you even think about suggesting that you sleep with me for safety from now on-' He scoffs. 'Hardly. I don't fuck first years- even when I was one- let alone... you.' 'Who said anything about fucking?' I fire back, cursing myself as the ache in my ribs only intensifies. 'I'd have to be a masochist to sleep with you, and I can assure you, I'm not.' Fantasising about it doesn't count. 'Masochist, huh?' A corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk. 'You hardly give off snuggly morning-after vibes.' A smile of my own curves my lips. 'Unless you're worried about me killing you while we sleep.”

FunnyVioletEnemies To LoversFourth WingViolet SorrengailRebecca YarrosXaden RiorsonXadenSexual TensionMasochist
Book:Fourth Wing
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