Isabelle had cut off her toes, but sometimes she could still feel them. Maman had cut out her heart. Sometimes, she could still feel that, too.
The cuts were the truth, written in blood, and no one must ever read it. Rulers were ruthless. They did not show weakness or fear. They did not cry. They made others cry. Hadn’t her stepmother told her that a thousand times?
Cowardice is like a plague; it spreads. One sick individual can infect an entire population.
There is nothing more dangerous than kindness.
You have no idea how the story ends. You’re not its author.
Only fools rush Death,′ said Death.
She was foolish and weak. She’d trusted Haakon, because he was beautiful and dazzling, because he’d spoken a few romantic words to her and made her believe that he loved her.
Didn’t Adelaide see what she was doing? Didn’t she understand that her brutal actions carried terrible consequences for her people? She was so vigilant, so worried about threats from her enemies. She raised armies, built warships – all to keep her people.
It does not look good. Then again, few things do in the dead of night. The small dark hours are the undoing of many. Candlelight throws shadows on the walls of our souls, shadows that turn a mouse into a monster, a downturn into disaster.
Chance held them up to the light. “Pink?” he said as he looked through the lenses. It was not his favorite color. “Rose,” William corrected. “It’s hard to look at mortal life any other way. View it through clear lenses and it breaks your heart.
People come out of the woods and pretend to be your friends. They offer you something – laces, a comb – and you take them. Stop it. Stop taking poison from fake friends. It’ll kill you.
You’re the worst girl I’ve ever met Isabelle,” Hugo added, with touching sincerity. “ You’re so tough and stubborn, you give me nightmares.
Nothing scares a weak man more than a strong woman.
They can tell you everything you’re not but they can’t make you believe it.- only you can do that.
Stop burdening the gods. Stop cursing the devil. They will make no path for you. They gave you their dark gifts: reason and will. Now you must make your own way.
Simple is the opposite of hard, easy is also the opposite of hard. But simple is not the same as easy. Not at all.
Beauty is not always pretty.
Because he deserves a second chance,” Love said. “Everyone does. My enchantress transformed the outer man to transform the inner. His suffering will teach him kindness and compassion. He’ll find his heart again.
She questioned everything and was obedient to only one thing – her heart.
All her life, she’d loved books. She loved the look of them, the smell of them, the sweet weight of them in her arms. Most of all, she loved the feeling she got every time she picked one up-the feeling of holding an entire world in her hands.
Love is a fearsome thing. It is braver than generals, stronger than fortresses. It opens graves and pulls rings off corpses. It sits up through the long, lonely night with a failing child. It fashions hearts out of scraps and bits and rusty things and makes them beat on, no matter how many times they break.