R Quotes
Browse famous quotes beginning with R. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.
“Rhys strode to me, and lifted a hand to brush my hair- but stopped upon seeing the blood crusting his fingers. He instead studied the tattoo now marring my left arm. 'As long as we don't have to invite it to solstice dinner, I can live with it.'
'You can live with it?' I lifted my brows.
A ghost of a smile, even with all that had happened, that now lay before us. 'At least now if one of you misbehaves, I know the perfect punishment. Going down there to talk to that thing for an hour.'
Nesta scowled with distaste, but Cassian let out a dark laugh. 'I'll take scrubbing toilets, thank you.'
'Your second encounter seemed less harrowing than the first.'
'It wasn't trying to eat me this time.' But shadows still darkened his eyes.”
Source: A Court of Wings and Ruin
“Rhys took in the painting I'd done, gobbling down the bright colours that now made the cottage come alive, and said, 'You painted us.'
'I hope you don't mind.'
He studied the threshold to the bedroom hallway. 'Azriel, Mor, Amren, and Cassian,' he said, marking the eyes I'd painted. 'You do know that one of them is going to paint a moustache under the eyes of whoever pisses them off that day.'
I clamped my lips to keep the smile in. 'Oh, Mor already promised to do that.'
'And what about my eyes?'
I swallowed. All right, then. No dancing around it.
My heart was pounding so wildly I knew he could hear it. 'I was afraid to paint them.'
Rhys faced me fully. 'Why?'
No more games, no more banter. 'At first, because I was so mad at you for not telling me. Then because I was worried I'd like them too much and find that you... didn't feel the same. Then because I was scared that if I painted them, I'd start wishing you were here so much that I'd just stare at them all day. And it seemed like a pathetic way to spend my time.'
A twitch of his lips. 'Indeed.”
Source: A Court of Mist and Fury
“Rhys tried to imagine what his mother would make of this subtle, incandescent creature with a mind full of books and music in her fingers. "She'll think you're too pretty. And too soft. She doesn't understand your kind of strength." Helen looked pleased. "You think I'm strong?" "I do," he said without hesitation. "You have a will like a steel blade.”
Source: Marrying Winterborne
“Rhys turned his head, looking me over from head to toe. Then back to Tamlin. A storm about to be unleashed.
But it was Azriel who said, his voice like cold death, "Be careful how you speak about my High Lady.”
“Rhys turned to me. If you can get across that battlefield in time, then do it. Try to stop the army. The king. But if you can't, when it all goes to hell... When there are none of us left...
Don't, I begged him. Don't say it.
I want you to run. I don't care what it costs. You run. Get far away, and live to fight another day. You don't look back.
I began to shake my head. You said no good-byes.”
Source: A Court of Wings and Ruin
“Rhys was the least of my concerns. Tamlin had seen the hesitation, but had he understood that I was about to say no? Had Ianthe? I had to tell him. Had to explain that there couldn't be a wedding, not for a while yet. Maybe I'd wait until the mating bond snapped into place, until I knew for sure it couldn't be some mistake, that... that I was worthy of him.
Maybe wait until he, too, had faced the nightmares stalking him. Relaxed his grip on things a bit. On me. Even if I understood his need to protect, that fear of losing me... Perhaps I should explain everything when I returned.
But- so many people had seen it, seen me hesitate-”
Source: A Court of Mist and Fury
“Rhysand at last released my hand, only to lay his once more on the bare stone. It rippled beneath his palm, forming- a door.
Like the gates above, it was of ivory- bone. And in its surface were etched countless images: flora and fauna, seas and clouds, stars and moons, infants and skeletons, creatures fair and foul-”
Source: A Court of Mist and Fury
“Rhysand brushed Lucien aside as if he were a curtain.”
Source: A Court of Thorns and Roses
“Rhysand chuckled. 'If you're that desperate for release, you should have asked me.'
'Pig,' I snapped, covering my breasts with the folds of my gown.
With a few easy steps, he crossed the distance between us and pinned my arms to the wall. My bones groaned. I could have sworn shadow-talons dug into the stones beside my head. 'Do you actually intend to put yourself at my mercy, or are you truly that stupid?' His voice was composed of sensuous, bone-breaking ire.
'I'm not your slave.'
'You're a fool, Feyre. Do you have any idea what could have happened had Amarantha found you two in here? Tamlin might refuse to be her lover, but she keeps him at her side out of the hope that she'll break him- dominate him as she loves to do with our kind.' I kept silent. 'You're both fools,' he murmured, his breathing uneven. 'How did you not think that someone would notice you were gone? You should thank the Cauldron Lucien's delightful brothers weren't watching you.'
'What do you care?' I barked, and his grip tightened enough on my wrists that I knew my bones would snap with a little more pressure.
'What do I care?' he breathed, wrath twisting his features. Wings- those membranous, glorious wings- flared from his back, crafted from the shadows behind him. 'What do I care?'
But before he could go on, his head snapped to the door, then back to my face. The wings vanished as quickly as they had appeared, and then his lips were crushing into mine. His tongue pried my mouth open, forcing himself into me, into the space where I could still taste Tamlin. I pushed and thrashed, but he held firm, his tongue sweeping over the roof of my mouth, against my teeth, claiming my mouth, claiming me-
The door was flung wide, and Amarantha's curved figure filled the space. Tamlin- Tamlin was beside her, his eyes slightly wide, shoulders tight as Rhys's lips crushed mine.
Amarantha laughed, and a mask of stone slammed down on Tamlin's face, void of feeling, void of anything vaguely like the Tamlin I'd been tangled up with moments before.
Rhys casually released me with a flick of his tongue over my bottom lip as a crowd of High Fae appeared behind Amarantha and chimed in with her laughter. Rhysand gave them a lazy, self-indulgent grin and bowed. But something sparked in the queen's eyes as she looked at Rhysand. Amarantha's whore, they'd called him.”
Source: A Court of Thorns and Roses
“Rhysand dropped onto the couch beside me at least, loosing a breath. His eyes slid to me. 'If you want to go, then you go, Feyre.'
If I hadn't been already in love with him, I might have loved him for that- for not insisting I stay, even if it drove his instincts mad, for not locking me away in the aftermath of what had happened yesterday.
And I realised- I realised how badly I'd been treated before, if my standards had become so low. If the freedom I'd been granted felt like a privilege and not an inherent right.
Rhys's eyes darkened, and I knew he read what I thought, felt. 'You might be my mate,' he said, 'but you remain your own person. You decide your fate- your choices. Not me. You chose yesterday. You choose every day. Forever.'
And maybe he only understood because he, too, had been helpless and without choices, had been forced to do such horrible things, and locked up. I threaded my fingers through his and squeezed. Together- together we'd find our peace, our future. Together we'd fight for it.”
Source: A Court of Mist and Fury
“Rhysand examined the wound, a smile appearing on his sensuous lips. 'Oh, that's wonderfully gruesome.' I swore at him, and he chuckled. 'Such words from a lady.”
Source: A Court of Thorns and Roses
“Rhysand opened his mouth, but then the silhouettes of two tall, powerful bodies appeared on the other side of the front door's fogged glass. One of them banged on it with a fist.
'Hurry up, you lazy ass,' a deep male voice drawled from the antechamber beyond. Exhaustion drugged me so heavily that I didn't particularly care that there were wings peeking over thier two shadowy forms.
Rhys didn't so much as blink toward the door. 'Two things, Feyre darling.'
The pounding continued, followed by the second male murmuring to his companion, 'If you're going to pick a fight with him, do it after breakfast.' That voice- like shadows given form, dark and smooth and... cold.
'I wasn't the one who hauled me out of bed just now to fly down here,' the first one said. Then added, 'Busybody.'
I could have sworn a smile tugged on Rhys's lips as he went on, 'One, no one- no one- but Mor and I are able to winnow directly inside this house. it is warded, shielded, and then warded some more. Only those I wish- and you wish- may enter. You are safe here; and safe anywhere in this city, for that matter. Velaris's walls are well protected and have not been breached in five thousand years. No one with ill intent enters this city unless I allow it. So go where you wish, do what you wish, and see who you wish. Those two in the antechamber,' he added, eyes sparkling, 'might not be on that list of people you should bother knowing, if they keep banging on the door like children.'
Another pound, emphasised by the first male voice saying, 'You know we can hear you, prick.'
'Secondly,' Rhys went on, 'in regard to the two bastards at my door, it's up to you whether you want to meet them now, or head upstairs like a wise person, take a nap since you're still looking a little peaky, and then change into city-appropriate clothing while I beat the hell out of one of them for talking to his High Lord like that.'
There was such light in his eyes. It made him look... younger, somehow. More mortal. So at odds with the icy rage I'd seen earlier when I'd awoken...
Awoken on that couch, and then decided I wasn't returning home.
Decided that, perhaps, the Spring Court might not be my home.”
Source: A Court of Mist and Fury
“Rhysand's moon-white skin began to darken into nothing but shadow.
'Wait.'
The darkness consuming him paused. For Tamlin... for Tamlin I would sell my soul; I would give up everything I had for him to be free.
'Wait,' I repeated.
The darkness vanished, leaving Rhysand in his solid form as he grinned. 'Yes?'
I raised my chin as high as I could manage. 'Just two weeks?'
'Just two weeks,' he purred, and knelt before me. 'Two teensy, tiny weeks with me every month is all I ask.'
'Why? And what are to... to be the terms?' I said, fighting past the dizziness.
'Ah,' he said, adjusting the lapel of his obsidian tunic. 'If I told you those things, there'd be no fun in it, would there?'
...
I couldn't think entirely of the enormity of what I was about to give- or else I might refuse again. I met Rhysand's gaze. 'Five days.'
'You're going to bargain?' Rhysand laughed under his breath. 'Ten days.'
I held his stare with all my strength. 'A week.'
Rhysand was silent for a long moment, his eyes travelling across my body and my face before he murmured. 'A week it is.'
'Then it's a deal,' I said. A metallic taste filled my mouth as magic stirred between us.”
Source: A Court of Thorns and Roses
“Rhysand smirked. 'Perhaps I'll tell her, perhaps I won't.'
In a flash of motion too fast for me to detect, Tamlin was on his feet, fangs dangerously close to Rhysand's face.
'None of that,' Rhysand said, clicking his tongue and lightly shoving Tamlin away with a single hand. 'Not with a lady present.”
Source: A Court of Thorns and Roses
“Rhysand stared at me for long enough that I faced him.
"Be glad of your human heart, Feyre. Pity those who don't feel anything at all.”
Source: A Court of Thorns and Roses
“Rhysand stepped forward, bring my shred of soul with him, and I found Tamlin staring at me- at us. 'For what she gave,' Rhysand said, extending a hand, 'we'll bestow what our predecessors have granted to few before.' He paused. 'This makes us even,' he added, and I felt the twinkle of humour as he opened his hand and let the seed of light fall on me.
Tamlin tenderly brushed aside my matted hair. His hand glowed bright as the rising sun, and in the centre of his palm, that strange, shining bud formed.
'I love you,' he whispered, and kissed me as he laid his hand on my heart.”
Source: A Court of Thorns and Roses
“Rhysand was silent beside me. Yet after a moment, he said, 'Out with it.'
I lifted a brow.
'You say what's on your mind- one thing. And I'll say one, too.'
I shook my head and turned back to the city.
But Rhys said, 'I'm thinking that I spent fifty years locked Under the Mountain, and I'd sometimes let myself dream of this place, but I never expected to see it again. I'm thinking that I wish I had been the one who slaughtered her. I'm thinking that if war comes, it might be a long while yet before I get to have a night like this.'
He slid his eyes to me, expectant.
...
'This was a no-questions-asked invitation. I told you... three things. Tell me one.'
I stared towards the open world, the city, and the restless sea and the dry winter night.
Maybe it was some shred of courage, or recklessness, or I was so high above everything that no one save Rhys and the wind could hear, but I said, 'I'm thinking that I must have been a fool in love to allow myself to be shown so little of the Spring Court. I'm thinking there's a great deal of territory I was never allowed to see or hear about and maybe I would have lived in ignorance forever like some pet. I'm thinking...' The words became choked. I shook my head as if I could clear the remaining ones away. But I still spoke them. 'I'm thinking that I was a lonely, hopeless person, and I might have fallen in love with the first thing that showed me a hint of kindness and safety. And I'm thinking maybe he knew that- maybe not actively, but maybe he wanted to be that person for someone. And maybe that worked for who I was before. Maybe it doesn't work for who- what I am now.'
There.
The words, hateful and selfish and ungrateful. For all Tamlin had done-
The thought of his name clanged through me. Only yesterday afternoon, I had been there. No- no I wouldn't think about it. Not yet.
Rhys said, 'That was five. Looks like I owe you two thoughts' He glanced behind us. 'Later.'
Because the two winged males from earlier were standing in the doorway.
Grinning.”
Source: A Court of Mist and Fury
“Rhysand whispered to me, his other hand now stroking the bare skin of my ribs in lazy indolent circles, 'Try not to let it go to your head.'
I knew they could all hear it. So did he.
I stared at their bowed heads, my heart hammering, but said with moonlight smoothness, 'What?'
Rhys's breath caressed my ear, the twin to the breath he'd brushed against it merely an hour ago in the skies. 'That every male in here is contemplating what they'd be willing to give up in order to get that pretty, red mouth of yours on them.'
I waited for the blush, the shyness, to creep in.
But I was beautiful. I was strong.
I had survived- triumphed. As Mor had survived in this horrible, poisoned house.
So I smiled a bit, the first smile of my new mask. Let them see the pretty, red mouth, and my white, straight teeth.
His hand slid higher up my thigh, the propriety touch of a male who knew he owned someone body and soul.”
Source: A Court of Mist and Fury
“Rhysand yelled my name again - yelled it as though he cared. I blacked out, but she brought me back, ensuring that I felt everything ensuring that I screamed every time a bone broke.”
Source: A Court of Thorns and Roses
“Rhythm and blues used to be called race music. ... This music was going on for years, but nobody paid any attention to it.”
“Rhythm and harmony enter most powerfully into the inner most part of the soul and lay forcible hands upon it, bearing grace with them, so making graceful him who is rightly trained.”
Source: Republic: ...
“Rhythm and melody enter into the soul of the well-instructed youth and produce there a certain mental harmony hardly obtainable in any other way. . . . thus music, too, is concerned with the principles of love in their application to harmony and rhythm.”
“Rhythm and sex go together and that's where I come from as far as the music goes. Rag Doll and Love In An Elevator are such sexual songs that you put them on & the strippers go NUTS!”
“Rhythm and sounds are born with syllables.”
“Rhythm and timing are the two things which we all must have, yet no one knows how to teach either.”
“Rhythm builds freedom.”
“Rhythm is a means of organizing sound into specific energy formulas to harmonize the mind and body. Chanting, rhythmic breathing and drumming form an ancient technology for directly synchronizing the mind/body complex, creating conditions for psychological and physical healing.”
“Rhythm is a perception of time... when drawing, the tiredness of the hand is a rhythm.”
“Rhythm is as necessary in a picture as pigment; it is as much a part of painting as of music.”
“Rhythm is best expressed in any swing directed at a cigar stump or a dandelion head.”
“Rhythm is born in all of us. To be a desirable dancing partner, you don't have to do all the intricate fancy steps that happen to be in vogue. All you have to do is be a good average dancer, and anybody who spends the time and effort can accomplish this.”
“Rhythm is everything in boxing. Every move you make starts with your heart, and that's in rhythm or you're in trouble.”
“Rhythm is form cut into time.”
Source: ABC of Reading
“Rhythm is one of the most powerful of pleasures, and when we feel a pleasurable rhythm we hope it will continue. When it does, it grows sweeter.”
Source: A Poetry Handbook
“Rhythm is one of the principal translators between dream and reality.”
Source: A Poet's Notebook
“Rhythm is one of the principal translators between dream and reality. Rhythm might be described as, to the world of sound, what light is to the world of sight. It shapes and gives new meaning. Rhythm was described by Schopenhauer as melody deprived of its pitch.”
Source: Taken Care Of: An Autobiography
“Rhythm is one of the subtlest of all instruments in the delicate work of conveying thought. But there is one general rule that is at once so simple and so near the heart of the whole matter, that I must at least mention it. This rule is to make the emphasez of sense and rhythm coincide. Plain men know by a sort of instinct where to hit hard ; they never say, " There is in my mind a desire which would be gratified if you were to transfer the hammer into my possession " ; they say, " Give me the hammer." This is true style. Someone has said, " All peasants have style," and philosophers cannot afford to get wholly out of touch with the fine economy of natural talk.”
Source: On Philosophical Style
“Rhythm is our universal mother tongue. It's the language of the soul.”
“Rhythm is something you either have or don't have, but when you have it, you have it all over.”
Source: Elvis: Inspirations
“Rhythm is the life of space of time danced through.”
“Rhythm is the pulse of music.”
“Rhythm must have meaning.”
Source: The Selected Letters of Ezra Pound, 1907-1941
“Rhythm to me is essentially what Hopkins called the taste of self. I taste myself as rhythm.”
“Rhythm, symmetry, and a happy combination of elegance and utility - a blend often desired in later days of hope and struggle - these have been fully attained, and with them a delight in quiet communion with Nature, expressing as she does the sense of beauty in orderliness.”
Source: History of Garden Art: Originally published in two volumes
“Rhythmic motion has become the carrier and creator of almost every ecstatic mood of any significance in human life.”
“Rhythmic rain drops drum
Music of a thousand beats
Silenced by the sun”
“Rhythms and sounds are often the first thing I hear and want in a poem, so I can't imagine trying to translate something without at least being able to hear what it sounds like.”
“Rhythms. You can almost feel them on suburban streets, divine the hour of the day without consulting a clock from the sounds heard in the cool, leafy neighborhoods.”
Source: The New Suburban Woman
“Rhythms, beats, etc., are fundamentally central to my creative drive: my first instrument was the drums, nearly every band I have been involved in or at the helm of, is driven by rhythm, my band is driven entirely by rhythm, machine rhythm, and the purpose of the rock instrumentation is literally to speak the beats, to emulate the rhythms with guitars and bass, with very little articulation, and without being 'progressive'.”
“Ri, here's a question for you,” Stella started. She opened it up to everyone else, as well. “When do your kids stop being pets and start being people?”
The room went silent, except for Gloria trying to stifle her giggles.
Stella looked around and felt pleased that she'd gotten the desired reaction.
“What are you talking about? How could you call children pets?” Shannon demanded before Bernadette had the chance to.
“No, this is an honest question.” Stella insisted. “You have them, you name them. They're helpless, and you teach, or train, them. Feed them, water them, whatever. And as they grow up, you just hope that they grow up well and don't spend their time clawing your nice sofa or humping your leg."
Stella, "Sugar and Spies: Spy Sisters Book 1”