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Once Upon A Broken Heart Quotes

Browse 79 quotes about Once Upon A Broken Heart.

Once Upon A Broken Heart Quotes

“I'm so confused. How do the two of you even know each other?' 'She's the Fate that poisoned you,' Jacks said. Lala gave Jacks an impressive glare. 'This is why everyone hates you.' He laughed in response as if they were flirting. Was this how Fates flirted- with accusations of murder?”

“A split second later, Jacks had her pinned against the closest tree. Her back hit the wood, his fevered chest pressed to hers, and his hands went for her throat, burning fire hot against her skin. 'Jacks,' Evangeline gasped. 'Let me go.' He moved away as quickly as he'd grabbed her. She slumped against the tree from the force of his release. When she righted herself, he was talking toward the crypt.”

“Did you ever play that game as a child- the one where there's a circle of chairs, and when the music stops playing you have to find a chair to sit in? But there's never enough chairs for everyone, so one person is always left without a seat in the circle and then tossed out of the game. That's how I feel, as if I missed my chance at a chair and now I've been tossed out of the game.”

“No matter what I tell you about vampires, you're going to be intrigued instead of horrified. Your kind always wants to be bitten or changed.' 'Not me,' Evangeline argued. 'But you're curious,' Jacks challenged. 'I'm curious about a lot of things. I'm curious about you, but I don't want you to bite me.' The corner of Jacks' mouth twitched. 'I've already done that, Little Fox.' His cold fingers found her wrist and slipped underneath the edge of her glove to stroke the last remaining broken heart scar. 'Lucky for you, no matter how many times I bite you, you'll never turn in to what I am. But sometimes all it takes from a vampire is one look, and you're theirs.”

“Jacks slid an arm underneath her cape and wrapped it around Evangeline's waist, holding her possessively tight as he drawled, 'Stop flashing your fangs. I'm the only one who gets to bite her.' Jacks nipped at Evangeline's ear, cold and sharp. She felt the sting of it everywhere, covering her with gooseflesh, which somehow turned to blush when it reached her cheeks. No matter how many times I bite you, you'll never turn in to what I am, he'd said. And now he was doing it, just to prove that he could. Evangeline started to pull away. Don't. Jacks spread his fingers and tightened his grip on her waist. Humans don't have power here. If he thinks I can't control you, he'll do it, and I guarantee you'll enjoy that even less. You still didn't have to bite me, Evangeline thought. And she would have shaken him off, but she wasn't there to fight with Jacks. She was there because Apollo was dead and she needed to find out who'd killed him. So instead of battling Jacks, she gritted her teeth as he released her waist and took hold of her hand.”

“Evangeline found herself squeezing Jacks' hand harder, feeling thankful he'd not let her go. Chaos tilted his head, eyes landing on their intertwined hands. 'Interesting.' 'This is getting tedious.' Jacks dropped Evangeline's hand and sauntered back in to the scholarly suite, where the rasp of vampire changelings and the rattle of cages weren't so all consuming.”

“Do you want to be a vampire?' Evangeline asked. 'No,' Jacks spat. 'I don't want to be a vampire, but I do want to bite you.' Evangeline's skin went hot all over. Jacks ground his teeth, looking furious at her for still being there. 'You should go,' he repeated. 'I'm not leaving you like this.' Evangeline searched the entryway for shackles. 'You are not pinning me to a wall.' Jacks glared. 'Do you have a better suggestion?”

“In the North, fairytales and history were treated as one and the same because their stories and histories were all cursed. Some tales couldn't be written down without bursting in to flames, others couldn't leave the North, and many changed every time they were shared, becoming less and less real with every retelling. It was said that every Northern tale had started as true history, but over time, the Northern story curse had twisted all the tales until only bits of truth remained. One of the stories Liana used to tell Evangeline was The Ballad of the Archer and the Fox, a romantic tale about a crafty peasant girl who could transform in to a fox and the young archer who loved her, but was cursed with the need to hunt her down and kill her.”

“His lips brushed over the delicate underside of her wrist. Once. Twice. Three times. It was barely a touch, and yet there was something incredibly intimate about it. It made her think of the other stories that said his kisses might have been fatal, but they were worth dying for. Jacks' cool mouth dragged intentionally back and forth over her racing pulse, velvety and gentle and- his sharp teeth dug in to her skin. She cried out, 'You bit me!' 'Relax, pet. I didn't draw any blood.' His eyes shone brighter as he dropped her arm. She ran a finger over the tender skin he'd just sunk his teeth into. Three thin white scars, shaped like tiny broken hearts, lined the underside of her wrist. One for each kiss.”

“Her steps took her deeper inside the cathedral. Everything was shockingly white. White carpets, white candles, white prayer pews of white oak, white aspen, and flaky white birch. Evangeline passed row after row of mismatched white benches. They might have been handsome once, but now many had missing legs, while others had mutilated cushions or benches that had been broken in half. Broken. Broken. Broken.”

“Made of granite with marbled blue veins and as tall as a castle's keep, the arch's weathered columns were carved to look like mermaids holding tridents that pierced through carvings of men, the way a sailor might spear a fish. The men's backs were bowed, and their hands stretched to hold out the sign forming the top of the enormous arch. WELCOME TO THE MAGNIFICENT NORTH. STORIES BE HERE.”

“... a robust pop sounded and a tiny pepper black dragon about the size of a chipmunk shot out streams of red fire to sear a fish stick at a nearby stall. On the docks, the adorable little beasts appeared to be as common as squirrels. Almost every vendor had one. Marisol was clearly not fond of the small winged creatures but Evangeline was delighted to spy tiny blue dragons sitting on shoulders and leathery brown ones perched on carts. The miniature beasts roasted apples and meats, blew glass baubles, and heated earthen mugs of drinking chocolate.”

“Evangeline had always believed that some of the items that passed through his shop really were enchanted. She'd often tracked down chess pieces that had wandered from their boards, and sometimes the paintings wore different expressions from those they'd had the day before.”

“The young man stood beside the arch the way a tree stood in a forest as if he'd always been there. He wore no cloak or cape, just sinuous leather armour and an unusual bronze helm. The top portion almost looked like a crown, thick and decorated with unfamiliar symbols that wrapped around the young man's forehead. The helm left most of his wavy brown hair uncovered but concealed much of his face with a wide curve of harsh, spiked metal that bracketed the sides of his head and covered his jaw all the way to the bridge of his nose, leaving only a pair of eyes and slashing cheekbones exposed.”

“What I want isn't going to hurt anyone.' She eyed the jewelled dagger he'd just pressed to her lips. 'I don't think you and I have the same definition of hurt.' 'Be thankful for that, Little Fox.' Jacks gave her a smile that was all sharp edges. A drop of blood fell from the corner of his mouth, and something godforsaken washed over his expression. 'Hurt is what made me.”

“... a fountain pen with a curious label: For finding dreams that don't exist yet. Evangeline had been unable to resist trying the pen, and as soon as she did, a fledgling dream had taken form. She didn't know how long she'd spent drawing, only that when her piece was done, it felt like a picture of a promise. Evangeline and her love were at the end of a dock covered in candles, which made the ocean glow so that it looked like a sea of fallen stars. Only night and her moon watched. No one else was there, just Evangeline and her groom. Their foreheads were pressed together- and she might not have known exactly what they were doing if not for the words her pen had etched in to the sky. And then they will write their vows on their hands and place them over each other's chests, so they may sink in to their hearts, where they will be kept safe forever and always.”