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Quote by Holly Black

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The Queen of Nothing

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Holly Black
Holly Black

Holly Black, born on November 10, 1971, is a renowned fantasy fiction writer from the United States. Her works are known for their unique imagination and profound emotional depth, which have won her a large fan base. more

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“...he kisses me, sweet and raw. 'I missed you,' I whisper against his skin and feel dizzy with the intimacy of the admission, feel more naked than when he could see every inch of me. 'In the mortal world, when I thought you were my enemy, I still missed you.' 'My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned.' He pulls my body against his, cradling my head against his chest.”

“He waves away a knight who proffers his cloak, despite being clad only in blood. 'I haven't worn anything in days,' the High King drawls, and if there is something brittle in his eyes, nearly everyone is too awed to notice. 'I don't see why I ought to start now.' 'Modesty?' I force out, playing along, surprised he can joke about the curse, or anything. He gives me a dazzling, insouciant smile. The kind of smile you can hide behind. 'Every part of me is a delight.' My chest hurts, looking at him. I feel like I can't breathe. Though he is in front of me, the pain of losing him hasn't faded.”

“The problem with coming through something terrible and big is that afterward, you're left feeling all the feelings that you shoved down and pushed away. For many long days, I have been terrified, and now, when I ought to be feeling great, what I want to do is hide under a table in the brugh with Cardan until I can finally convince myself he's all right. And maybe make out with his face, if he's feeling up to that.”

“On the throne, the remaining flowers turn the same inky black as Cardan's eyes. Then the black bleeds down his face. He turns to me, opening his mouth, but his jaw is changing. His whole body is changing- elongating and ululating. ... The monstrous thing seems to have swallowed up everything of Cardan. His mouth opens wide and then jaw-crackingly wide as long fangs sprout. Scales shroud his skin. Dread has rooted me in place. ... In the place where the High King was, there is a massive serpent, covered in black scales and curved fangs. A golden sheen runs down the coils of the enormous body. I look in to his black eyes, hoping to see recognition there, but they are cold and empty. 'It will poison the land,' cries the smith. 'No true love's kiss will stop it. No riddle will fix it. Only death.”

“I could warn Randalin that he ought to be afraid of the way that Cardan is looking at him. Cardan turns to me, and some of the heat of his anger is still in his eyes. 'Jude, would you give me and the councilor a moment alone? I have a few things I would like to urge him to consider. And Grima Mog has brought you soup.' 'I don't need anyone to help me tell Randalin that this is my home and my land and that I am going nowhere and relinquishing nothing.' 'And yet,' Cardan says, clamping his hand on the back of the councilor's throat, 'there are still some things I would say to him.' Randalin allows Cardan to hustle him into one of the other royal parlours. Cardan's voice goes low enough for me to not make out the words, but the silky menace of his tone is unmistakable.”