But then again, it’s easy to love those who’ve done right by us, don’t you think? A bit harder to love those who’ve done us wrong.
Good leaders know when to follow rules and when to break them.
You’re playing by the Rule of Three,” said Love. “Named for the three Fates, the first of whom holds the spool upon which the thread of life is wound; the second, who pulls that thread; and the third, who snips it. If Belle eats three things in Nevermore, and leave three things, she’ll be bound to it.
Very. I ground the lenses myself. The left gives you hindsight; the right, foresight.
It’s good that you still cry,” Isabelle whispered to her. “It’s when you stop crying that you’re lost.
An escape can become escapism before we even know it. Books are wonderful things, but you can’t live in someone else’s story. You have to live your own story.
Even the strong couldn’t be strong all the time.
Life’s all about the revolution, isn’t it?” he said. “The one inside, I mean.
I was born in Paris. My parents came here from Tunisia when they were kids, but we’re still foreigners. Arabs. Africans. Rabble. Scum. We’re what’s wrong with this country and we always will be.
May Delano looked up from her book. “What’s a wayward girl?” she asked. Jo groaned. “Never mind,” Trudy said. “Tell me,” May whined. “Very well,” Trudy replied, turning to look at May. “A girl who is with child but without a husband.” May laughed. “Shows what you know, Trudy Van Eyck. The stork brings babies after you’re married, not before.
I am not afraid of an army of lions led by a sheep. I am afraid of an army of sheep led by a lion.
For the rich boys who get to go to the Sorbonne even though they’re too stupid to solve a simple quadratic equation? For the viscount I was seated next to at a dinner who tried to put his hand up my skirt through all five courses? For the smug society ladies who look me up and down and purse their lips and say no, I won’t do for their sons because my chin is too pointed, my nose is too large, I talk too much about numbers?
Jealousy. It burns so hot, so bright. It devours you until you’re just a smoking ruin with nothing left inside. Nothing but ashes.
Her eyes drank in the colors of home – the soft gray of an arctic gull’s wing. The clear blue heart of an ice floe.
Know that you are a warrior... and that a true warrior carries love, courage, and her conscience into battle, as surely as she carries her sword.
Sera was beginning to see that love wasn’t pretty words and easy promises. Love was hard. It challenged you and changed you. It filled your heart and sometimes hardened it too. Love demanded sacrifices. She’d made many over the last few weeks, and knew she would be called upon to make many more.
No sunrises that stop you dead with their unspeakable beuaty, either, he thought. No whales breaching only yards away from the ship, showering your awestruck self with a cold ocean rain. No songs and whiskey belowdecks at night while the wind plucks at the ship’s rigging and the ice beats against her hull.
Her grief would run its course, like a fever, and release her when it was spent. He would not shush her or tell her it was God’s will and that her da was better off. That was rubbish and they both knew it. When something hurt as bad as this, you had to let it hurt. There were no shortcuts. p. 100-101.
I’ve been in contact with her. She approached me months ago. I know the terms of her deal. She’s going to tell Ragnar that Ondalina’s attack on Miromara was an act of war and that he must surrender. Either he accepts Lucia.
Volnero as the new ruler of Ondalina or Miromara obliterates our entire realm. I will advise Ragnar to accept her terms.