R.L. LaFevers Quotes

I have found it is surprisingly difficult to remain sad when a cat is doing its level best to sandpaper one's cheeks.

When one consorts with assassins, one must expect to dance along the edge of a knife once or twice.

Truly, we are the gods' own children, forged in the fire of our tortured pasts, but also blessed with unimaginable gifts.

People hear and see what they expect to hear and see.

Whenever you are ready, or if you never are, my heart is yours, until Death do us part. Whatever that may mean when consorting with one of Death’s handmaidens.

Are men truly such idiots that they cannot resist two orbs of flesh?

I cannot tell her I have been moping over a broken heart when I have worked so hard to convince her I have no heart at all.

Every time he glances at me I feel it just as surely as if he has reached out and run his finger along my soul. It is all I can do not to smile at the sheer wonder of it.

He barks out a laugh. "My little rebel.

Why be the sheep when you can be the wolf?

One heart cannot serve two masters.

It takes a surprising amount of courage to place one's hand into an unseen area when your mind is thinking about vermin.

Jewels can be replaced, cousin. Independence, once lost, cannot.

I bear a deep red stain that runs from my left shoulder down to my right hip, a trail left by the herbwitch's poison that my mother used to try to expel me from her womb.

I stare at him coldly. "I do not care for needlework." I pause. "Unless it involves the base of the skull.

It is all we have left to us. And while it is more than I ever dared dream, it is nowhere near enough.

I will sit here but an hour or two, then leave." I yawn. "So very long as that?" When he answers, there is a wry note in his voice. "I do have my reputation to protect.

... then he offers me his arm. As I take it, I wonder what folly decreed that women cannot walk unassisted.

I comfort myself with the knowledge that if Duval ever feels smothered by me, it will be because I am holding a pillow over his face.

Whenever you are ready, or if you never are, my heart is yours.

Surely He does not give us hearts so we may spend our lives ignoring them.

There is no shame in scars, Ismae.

... true faith never comes without anguish.

So.... You are well equipped for our service.' 'Which is?' 'We kill people.

The body on the ground is nothing more than a shell, a husk, and I am filled with a sense of peace. Yes, I think. Yes. This is what I want to be. An instrument of mercy, not vengeance.

However, there are those who deserve to die but who have not yet encountered the means to do so—we help them on their way.

And so it is with us; we serve as handmaidens to Death. When we are guided by His will, killing is a sacrament.

I am a handmaiden of Death. I walk in His dark shadow and do His bidding. Serving Him is my only purpose in this life.

He smiles then, and even though it is well past midnight, its as if the sun has just come out.

When he laces his fingers through mine, my heart does its now familiar panicked flight, bumping painfully against my ribs. My shoulder twitches as if to pull my hand back, but my heart overrules it.

Tis Vanth's cage. You can just move it out of the way." "I already have," he grumbles. "With my shin.

You are not my nursemaid. Remember, I am rescuing you.

This is what I want to be. An instrument of mercy, not vengeance.

... while I am Death's daughter and walk in His dark shadow, surely the darkness can give way to light sometimes.

It is a good thing I no longer have a heart, because if I did, it would surely break.

I am left with the conviction that an avalanche would be easier to dissuade than that man.

I never skulk, and lurk only sometimes.

If he is smart, he will run. He is not.

Perhaps that is because you mistake death for justice, and they are not the same thing at all.

You love me?' 'Yes, you great lummox. I love you.' He lets out a sigh. 'Sweet Camulos! It's about time.

Hate cannot be fought with hate. Evil cannot be conquered by darkness. Only love has the power to conquer them both.

If you are not careful, soon you will have men locking themselves in dungeons so that you can rescue them.

I am beginning to think that love itself is never wrong. It is what love can drive people to do that is the problem.

We are all of us, gods and mortals, made up of many pieces, some of them broken, some of them scarred, but none of them the total sum of who we are.

The pain of hope dying is worse than his fists and boots.

You come to us well tempered, my child, and it is not in my nature to be sorry for it. It is a well tempered blade that is the strongest.

Good intentions are only lies the weak tell themselves.

In the distance a wolf howls. Let it come, I think. Beast will most likely simply howl back, and the creature will either turn tail and run or fall into line behind him, like the rest of us have.

Do you need anything before I go? I want you to return my wits, I long to say.

I point out. It was the most foolish, jape-fisted bit of buffoonery I have ever seen, and I am impressed in spite of that.