You do what you love, what you need.

And I wondered if love was too weak a word for what he felt, what he’d done for me. For what I felt for him.

So I’m your huntress and thief?” His hands slid down to cup the backs of my knees as he said with a roguish grin, “You are my salvation, Feyre.

Say it, ” I gritted out.“The High Lord of the Night Court is your mate.

If you were going to die, I was going to die with you. I couldn't stop thinking it over and over as you screamed, as I tried to kill her: you were my mate my mate my mate.

I was burning through books every day - stories about people and places I'd never heard of. They were perhaps the only thing that kept me from teetering into utter despair.

It had filled my time - given me quiet, steadfast company with those characters, who did not exist and never would, but somehow made me feel less ... alone.

And then things would be fine. Then I'd be fine.

Females and males watched Rhysand throughout the hall—and the shadowsinger and I made a game of betting on who, exactly, would work up the nerve to invite the High Lord home.

I’m thinking it would be very easy to love you. And easier to call you my friend.

The Court of Dreams. The people who knew that there was a price, and one worth paying, for that dream.

I'll have no husband, if you be not he.

While some misuse their freedom to perpetrate evil, millions respond by feeling compelled to use their freedom to do good.

I’m still having trouble convincing Pax that underwear and pants go together – underwear is not pants!

I always say it was great for God to send his only son, but I'm waiting for him to send his only daughter. Then things will really be great.

I don't think I will be less good because there's less pressure on me.

if a man would make his world large, he must be always making himself small.

But the most wretched thing, is it not-is to drag out, as I do, a useless existence. If our pains were only of some use to someone, we should find consolation in the thought of the sacrifice.

A man always mistakes a woman's clinging devotion for weakness, until he discovers that it requires the strength of Samson, the patience of Job, and the finesse of Solomon to untwine it.

I don’t write this letter to put bitterness into your heart, but to pluck it out of mine. For my own sake I must forgive you.

A low self-love in the parent desires that his child should repeat his character and fortune.