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Holly Black Quotes

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Holly Black Quotes

“I put the withered leaf in my mouth first. Then I place the bone on the cut root where my tongue used to be, close my eyes, and concentrate. Immediately, I feel as though my chest is being squeezed, as though my ribs are cracking. Something is wrong. Something is wrong with me. I fall to my knees, palms pressed against the ice of the floor. Something seems to twist inside my chest, then split, like a fissure opening in a glacier. The hard knot of my magic, the part of me that has felt in danger of unravelling when I push myself too hard, splits completely apart. I gasp, because it hurts. It hurts so much my mouth opens on a scream I cannot make. It hurts so much that I black out. ... With astonishment, I realise my tongue is in my mouth. It feels odd to have it there. Thick and heavy. I cannot decide if it is swollen of if I am just oddly conscious of it. 'I'm scared,' I whisper to myself. Because it's true. Because I need to know if my tongue belongs to me and will say the things I mean it to. 'I'm so tired. I'm so tired of being scared.”

MagicTiredScaredTongueWrongHolly BlackThe Stolen HeirSurenWren
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“Cardan ought to have been the boy with the heart of stone in Aslog's story, but somehow he had let his heart turn to glass. He could feel the shattered shards of it lodged in his lungs, making his every breath painful. Cardan had trusted Nicasia not to hurt him, which was ridiculous, since he well knew that everyone hurts one another and that the people you loved hurt you the most grievously. Since he was well aware that they both took delight in hurting everyone else that they could, how could he have thought himself safe?”

HeartbreakHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirHeartbrokenCardan GreenbriarCardanBroken HeartedCheated OnNicasia
Book:How the King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories
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“I am curious about your change of heart.' ... For a long moment, Nicasia didn't speak. She picked at a fishcake. Cardan raised his eyebrows. 'Ah, you didn't make the choice to leave him, did you?' 'It's more complicated than that,' she told him. 'And it affects you as well.' 'Does it?' he inquired. 'You must listen! Locke's taken one of the mortal girls as his lover,' Nicasia said, obviously attempting to keep her voice from shaking. Cardan was silent, his thoughts thrown in to confusion. One of the mortal girls. 'You can't expect me to pity you,' he said finally, voice tight. 'No,' she said slowly. 'I expect you to laugh in my face and tell me that it's no more than I deserve.' She looked out toward Hollow Hall, miserable. 'But I think Locke means to humiliate you as much as he does me in doing this.. How does it look, after all, to steal your lover and then tire of her so quickly?' He didn't care how it made him look. He didn't care in the least. 'Which one?' Cardan asked. 'Which mortal girl?' 'Does it matter?' Nicasia was clearly exasperated. 'Either. Both.' It shouldn't matter. The human girls were insignificant, nothing. In fact, he ought to feel delighted that Nicasia had such swift cause to regret what she'd done. And if he felt even angrier than he had before, well then, he had no cause. 'At least you will have the pleasure of seeing what the Grand General does when Locke inevitably mishandles the situation.' 'That's not enough,' she said. 'What then?' 'Punish them.' She took his hands, her expression fierce. 'Punish all three of them. Convince Valerian he'd like tormenting the mortals. Force Locke to play along. Make them all suffer.' 'You should have led with that,' Cardan told her, getting to his feet. 'That I would have agreed to just for fun.”

HeartbreakRevengeHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirCardan GreenbriarCardanLockeNicasia
Book:How the King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories
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“He doesn't look in my direction. It's as though he doesn't see me or that I am as uninteresting as a piece of furniture. I wish it didn't bother me. I wish I didn't remember standing at the very top of the highest tower on his estate, his body warm against mine. I wish he hadn't used me to test my sister's love for him. I wish she hadn't let him. If wishes were horses, my mortal father used to say, beggars would ride. Another of those phrases that makes no sense until it does.”

HeartbreakHolly BlackWishesThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteJudeThe Wicked KingLockeBeing Ignored
Book:The Wicked King
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“Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It's disgusting, and I can't stop.' I am shocked in to silence. 'Maybe you should shoot me after all,' he says, covering his face with one long-fingered hand. ... He doesn't look up as I walk around the desk to him. I place the tip of the blade against the bottom of his chin, as I did the day before in the hall, and I tilt his face toward mine. He shifts his gaze with obvious reluctance. The horror and shame on his face look entirely too real. Suddenly, I am not so sure what to believe. I lean toward him, close enough for a kiss. His eyes widen. The look in his face is some commingling of panic and desire. It is a heady feeling, having power over someone. Over Cardan, who I never thought had any feelings at all. 'You really do want me,' I say, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath as it hitches. 'And you hate it.' I change the angle of the knife, turning it so it's against his neck. He doesn't look nearly as alarmed by that as I might expect. Not nearly as alarmed as when I bring my mouth to his.”

DesireHorrorShameHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteCardan GreenbriarJudeCardanThe Cruel Prince
Book:The Cruel Prince
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“...kissing Locke never felt the way that kissing Cardan does, like taking a dare to run over knives, live an adrenaline strike of lightning, like the moment when you've swum too far out in the sea and there is no going back, only cold black water closing over your head. Cardan's cruel mouth is surprisingly soft, and for a long moment after our lips touch, he's still as a statue. His eyes close, lashes brushing my cheek. I shudder, as you're supposed to when someone walks over your grave. Then his hands come up, gentle as they glide over my arms. If I didn't know better, I'd say his touch was reverent, but I do know better. HIs hands are moving slowly because he is trying to stop himself. He doesn't want this. He doesn't want to want this. He tastes like sour wine. I can feel the moment he gives in and gives up, pulling me to him despite the threat of the knife. He kisses me hard, with a kind of devouring desperation, fingers digging in to my hair. Our mouths slide together, teeth over lips over tongues. Desire hits me like a kick to the stomach. It's like fighting, except what we're fighting for is to crawl inside each other's skin. That's the moment when terror seizes me. What kind of insane revenge is there in exulting in his revulsion? And worse, far worse, I like this. I like everything about kissing him- the familiar buzz of fear, the knowledge I am punishing him, the proof he wants me. The knife in my hand is useless. I throw it at the desk, barely registering as the point sinks in to the wood. He pulls back from me at the sound, startled. HIs mouth is pink, his eyes dark. He sees the knife and barks out a startled laugh. Which is enough to make me stagger back. I want to mock him, to show up his weakness without revealing mine, but I don't trust my face not to show too much. 'Is that what you imagined?' I ask, and am relieved to find that my voice sounds harsh. 'No,' he said tonelessly. 'Tell me,' I say. He shakes his head, somewhere chagrined. 'Unless you're really going to stab me, I think I won't. And I might not tell you even if you were going to stab me.' I get up on Dain's desk to put some distance between us. My skin feels too tight, and the room seems suddenly too small. He almost made me laugh there.”

DesireKissingKissHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteCardan GreenbriarJudeCardanThe Cruel Prince
Book:The Cruel Prince
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“Is this what you imagined I'd be like, back in your rooms at Hollow Hall, when you thought of me and hated it? Is this how you pictured my eventual surrender?' He looks absolutely mortified, but there's no disguising the flush of his cheeks, the shine of his eyes. 'Yes,' he says, sounding like the word was dragged out of him, his voice rough with desire. 'Then what did I do?' I ask, my voice low. I reach out to press my hand against his thigh. His gaze shimmers with a sharp spike of heat. There's a wariness in his face, though, and I realise he believes i might be asking him all this because I'm angry. Because I want to see him humiliated. But he keeps speaking anyway. 'I imagined you telling me to do with you whatever I liked.' 'Really?' I ask, and the surprised laugh in mny voice makes him meet my gaze. 'Along with some begging on your part. A little light grovelling.' He gives me an embarrassed smile. 'My fantasies were rife with overweening ambition.”

DesireHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirCardan GreenbriarCardanProvocativeThe Queen Of NothingFantasies
Book:The Queen of Nothing
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“Tell me again what you said at the revel,' he says, climbing over me, his body against mine. 'What?' I can barely think. 'That you hate me,' he says, his voice hoarse. 'Tell me what you hate me.' 'I hate you,' I say, the words coming out like a caress. I say it again, over and over. A litany. An enchantment. A ward against what I really feel. 'I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.' He kisses me harder. 'I hate you,' I breathe in to his mouth. 'I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.' At that, he makes a harsh, low sound.”

LyingDesireLustHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteCardan GreenbriarJudeCardanThe Wicked King
Book:The Wicked King
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“He takes a step toward me. 'The other night-' I cut him off. 'I did it for the same reason that you did. To get it out of my system.' 'And it it?' he asks. 'Out of your system?' I look him in the face and lie. 'Yes.' If he touches me, if he even takes another step toward me, my deceit will be exposed. I don't think I can keep the longing off my face. Instead, to my relief, he gives a thin-lipped nod and departs. ... It occurs to me that maybe desire isn't something overindulging helps. Maybe it is not unlike mithridatism; maybe I took a killing dose when I should have been poisoning myself slowly, one kiss at a time.”

LyingDesireLongingHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteCardan GreenbriarJudeCardanThe Wicked King
Book:The Wicked King
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“Tell me again what you said at the revel,' he says, climbing over me, his body against mine. 'What?' I can barely think. 'That you hate me,' he says, his voice hoarse. 'Tell me that you hate me.' 'I hate you,' I say, the words coming out like a caress. I say it again, over and over. A litany. An enchantment. A ward against what I really feel. 'I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.' He kisses me harder. 'I hate you,' I breathe in to his mouth. 'I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.' At that, he makes a harsh, low sound.”

DesireKissingLustHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteCardan GreenbriarJudeCardanThe Wicked King
Book:The Wicked King
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“The gown is the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen,' I say to her, as I can pay her no other way without insult. It has been a long time since I have been given a gift, barbed though it may be. 'It does feel as though it might come from a dream.' That makes Habetrot's cheeks pink. 'Good. Maybe you will come back and tell me how the Prince of Sunlight liked the Queen of Night.' Embarrassed, I step out into the hall, wondering how she could believe that a dress- no matter how beautiful- could make me into an object of desire.”

BeautifulDesireHolly BlackGorgeousThe Stolen HeirSurenWrenDressHabetrotObject Of Desire
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“I let myself relax into the moment, into friendship. 'Now what about my hairpin?' He grins and hands it over. I smooth my thumb over the silver bird, then use it to pull back his hair, instead of mine. As my fingers skim over his neck, threading through the silk of his locks, he shudders from something I do not think is cold. I am suddenly too aware of the physicality of him, his long legs and the curve of his mouth, the hollow of his throat and the sharp point of his ears, where earrings once hung. Of the hairs hanging loose from my pin, falling across one light brown horn to rest on his cheekbone. When his eyes meet mine, desire, as keen as any blade, bends the air between us. The moment slows. I want to bite his lip. To feel the heat of his skin. To slide my hands beneath his armour and trace the map of his scars.”

DesireCuteHolly BlackThe Stolen HeirSurenWrenOakOak GreenbriarWantingHairpin
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“Will you tell me how you came to be living...' He stops, as if trying to find the words. 'As you were.' I remember the care I'd given that he not know. How could I explain the way time seemed to slip from my fingers, the way I became incrementally more detached, more unable to reach out a hand to take something I wanted? I will not allow him to pity me any more than he does. 'You could have come to see me,' he says. 'If you need something.' I laugh at that. 'You?' He frowns down at me with his amber eyes. 'Why not?' The enormity of the reasons catches in my mouth. He's a prince of Elfhame, and I am the disgraced child of traitors. He befriends everyone, from the troll guard at the entrance to all those Tiernan mentioned back in the High Court, while I have spent years alone in the woods. But most of all, because he could have asked his sister to allow me to stay on the Shifting Isles and didn't. 'Perhaps I wanted to save that favour you still owe me,' I say. He laughs at that. Oak liking me is as silly as the sun liking a storm, but that doesn't stop my desire for it. Me, with my sharp teeth and chilly skin. It's absurd. It's grotesque. And yet, the way he looks at me, it almost seems possible.”

DesirePityHolly BlackIsolatedDetachedThe Stolen HeirSurenWrenOakOak Greenbriar
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“Once this is over,' he says, 'there are some things I want to tell you. Some explanation I have to give.' 'Like what?' I ask, keeping my voice low. He looks away, toward the edge of the pine forest. 'I let you believe- well, something that's untrue.' I think about the feeling of Oak's breath against my neck, the way his fox eyes looked with the pupils gone wide and black, the way it felt to bite his shoulder almost hard enough to break skin. 'Tell me, then.' He shakes his head, looking pained, but so many of his expressions are masks that I can no longer tell what is real. 'If I did, it would serve nothing but to clear my conscience and would put you in danger.' 'Tell me anyway,' I say. But Oak only shakes his head again. 'Then let me tell you something,' I say. 'I know why you smile and jest and flatter, even when you don't need to. At first I thought it was to make people like you, then I thought it was to keep them off-balance. But it's more than that. You're worried they're scared of you.' Wariness comes into his face. 'Why ever would they be?' 'Because you terrify yourself,' I say. 'Once you start killing, you don't want to stop. You like it. Your sister may have inherited your father's gift for strategy, but you're the one who got his bloodlust.' A muscle moves in his jaw. 'Are you afraid of me?' 'Not because of that.' The intensity of his gaze is blistering. It doesn't matter. It feels good to pierce his armour, but it doesn't change anything.”

HonestyHolly BlackSecretsAfraidThe Stolen HeirSurenWrenOakOak GreenbriarPainful Truths
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“I will serve up delights you've never imagined,' Locke's smile is infectious. He will serve up trouble, that's for sure. Trouble I have no time for. 'Have a care,' I say, drawing Locke's attention to me for the first time. 'I am sure you would not wish to insult the High King's imagination.' 'Indeed, I'm sure not,' Cardan says in a way that's difficult to interpret.”

ImaginationHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteCardan GreenbriarJudeCardanThe Wicked KingLockeDelights
Book:The Wicked King
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“The parlour is as I remember it from Council meetings. It carries the scent of smoke and verbena and clover. Cardan himself lounges, his booted feet resting on a stone table carved in the shape of a griffin, claws raised to strike. He gives me a quicksilver conspiratorial grin that seems completely at odds with the way he spoke to me from the throne. 'Well,' he says, patting the couch beside him. 'Didn't you get my letters?' 'What?' I am confused enough that the word comes out like a croak. 'You never replied to a one,' he goes on. 'I began to wonder if you'd misplaced your ambition in the mortal world.' This must be a test. This must be a trap. 'Your Majesty,' I say stiffly. 'I thought you brought me here to assure yourself I had neither charm nor amulet.' A single eyebrow rises, and his smile deepens. 'I will if you like. Shall I command you to remove your clothes? I don't mind.' 'What are you doing?' I say finally, desperately. 'What are you playing at?' He's looking at me as though somehow I am the one who's behaving strangely. 'Jude, you can't really think I don't know it's you. I knew you from the moment you walked into the brugh.' I shake my head, reeling. 'That's not possible.”

FunnyActingKnowingHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteCardan GreenbriarJudeCardanThe Queen Of Nothing
Book:The Queen of Nothing
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“He gives me one of his most awful smiles. 'I suppose she'll have to be searched.' ... 'My husband was murdered,' I say. 'And whether or not you believe me, I do mourn him. I will not make a spectacle of myself for the Court's amusement when his body is barely cold.' Unfortunately, the High King's smile only grows. 'As you wish. Then I suppose I will have to examine you along in my chambers.”

FunnyKnowingHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteCardan GreenbriarJudeCardanThe Queen Of NothingProposition
Book:The Queen of Nothing
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“I thought love was a fascination, or a desire to be around someone, or wanting to make them happy. I believed it just happened, like a slap to the face, and left the way the sting from such a blow fades. That's why it was easy for me to believe it could be false or manipulated or influenced by magic. 'Until I met you, I didn't understand to feel loved, one has to feel known. And that, outside of my family, I had never really loved because I hadn't bothered to know the other person. But I know you. And you have to come back to me, Wren, because no one gets us but us. You know why you're not a monster, but I might be. I know why throwing me in your dungeon meant there was still something between us. We are messes and we are messed up and I don't want to go through this world without the one person I can't hide from and who can't hide from me. 'Come back,' he says again, tears burning the back of his throat. 'You want and you want and you want, remember? Well, wake up and take what you want.”

LoveRomanticHolly BlackThe Stolen HeirSurenWrenOakOak GreenbriarThe Prisoners ThroneDeathbed Confession
Book:The Prisoner’s Throne
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“I know what you think' Oak says. 'That you're not whom I should want.' She ducks her head, a faint flush on her cheeks. 'It's true you inspire no safe daydream of love,' he tells her. 'A nightmare, then?' she asks with a small, self-depreciating laugh. 'The kind of love that comes when two people see each other clearly,' he says, walking to her. 'Even if they're scared to believe that's possible. I adore you. I want to play games with you. I want to tell you all the truths I have to give. And if you really think you're a monster, then let's be monsters together.' Wren stares at him. 'And if I send you away even after this speech? If I don't want you?' He hesitates. 'Then I'll go,' he says. 'And adore you from afar. And compose ballads about you or something.”

LoveRomanticHolly BlackThe Stolen HeirSurenWrenOakOak GreenbriarThe Prisoners ThroneI Adore You
Book:The Prisoner’s Throne
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“This is not how I meant to begin. I meant to give you wine and fruit and cheese. I meant to tell you how your hair is as beautiful as curling woodsmoke, your eyes the exact colour of walnuts. I thought I could compose an ode about it, but I am not very good at odes.' I laugh, and he covers his heart as though stung by cruelty”

RomanceRomanticHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteJudeThe Cruel PrinceDateLockeOdes
Book:The Cruel Prince
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“Lil-' he says, voice sounding soft and scratchy, but speaking. He's conscious. Awake. Healed. He grabs hold of the Bomb's hand. 'I'm dying,' he says. 'The poison- I was foolish. I don't have long.' 'You're not dying,' she says. 'There's something I could never tell you while I lived,' he says, pulling her closer to him. 'I love you, Liliver. I've loved you from the first hour of our meeting. I loved you and despaired. Before I die, I want you to know that.' The Ghost's eyebrows rise, and he glances at me. I grin. With both of us on the floor, I doubt the Roach has any idea we're there. Besides, he's too busy looking at the Bomb's shocked face. 'I never wanted-' he begins, then bites off the words, clearly reading her expression as horror. 'You don't have to say anything in return. But before I die-' 'You're not dying,' she says again,, and this time he seems to actually hear her. 'I see.' His face suffuses with shame. 'I shouldn't have spoken.' I creep toward the kitchen, the Ghost behind me. As we head toward the door, I hear the Bomb's soft voice. 'If you hadn't,' she says, 'then I couldn't tell you that your feelings are returned.' Outside, the Ghost and I walk toward the palace, looking up at the stars. I think about how much cleverer the Bomb is than I am, because when she had her chance, she took it. She told him how she felt. I failed to tell Cardan. And now I never can.”

LoveRomanticHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteJudeThe Queen Of NothingThe GhostThe BombThe Roach
Book:The Queen of Nothing
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“I told Vee she had to go on a quest. She has to meet me all over again and do it right this time. Tell me the truth from the start. And convince me to love her.' 'Damn.' The last of my armour comes off, clanking to the floor, and I realise that her talking has distracted me enough for my breathing to return to normal. 'That is some serious fairy-tale business. A quest.' Heather reaches out her hand to take mine. 'If she succeeds, all my memories come back. But if not, then tonight's the last time I am going to see you.' 'I hope you drink the cellars dry at the revel,' I say to her, pulling her in to a tight embrace. 'But more than that. I hope Vee is good enough to win your hand again.”

LoveRomanticHolly BlackJude DuarteJudeQuestThe Queen Of NothingHeatherVivi DuarteThe Folk
Book:The Queen of Nothing
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“JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE PLEASE JUDE”

DespairHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteCardan GreenbriarJudeLetterCardanThe Queen Of NothingLetters To Jude
Book:The Queen of Nothing
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