Sarah J. Maas

“His eyes - those silver eyes that would probably haunt her for the rest of her life - were bright."No matter what I have done, I really do love you, Celaena."The word hit her like a stone to the head. He'd never said that word to her before. Ever. A long silence fell between them.”

“You look more of less the same."She strode right past him. "And you still look like a jackass," she said sweetly.”

“Still, the image haunted his dreams throughout the night: a lovely girl gazing at the stars, and the stars who gazed back.”

“Porque ya no importaba qué futuro hubieravislumbrado o con quién hubiera previsto compartirlo; no concebía lavida sin ella ni desearía nunca a ninguna otra mujer”

“You could rattle the stars.”

“She never bothered to look down.”

“Tell me your deepest secret," she said softly...After a long moment, he spoke. "The only secret I've borne my entire life is that I love you." He gave her a slight smile. "It was the one thing I believed I'd go to the grave without voicing." His eyes were so full of light that their loveliness almost stopped her heart.”

“A cluster of giggling women sat nearby, tittering about how the Crown Prince was gone on holiday to the Sorian coast, and how they wished they could join the prince and his dashing friends, and on and on until Celaena contemplated chucking her spoon at them.”

“No matter what happens," she said quietly, "I want to thank you."Chaol tilted his head to the side. "For what?"Her eyes stung but she blamed it on the fierce wind and blinked away the dampness. "For making my freedom mean something.”

“Perhaps you should consider your difficulty in getting past Wendlyn's naval defences to be a sign that you should stop playing at being a god.""Playing?" The King smiled, his crooked teeth glowing yellow in the firelight. "I am not playing. And this is not a game.”

“I'm the Captain of the Guard-I'm not exactly a catch for any of them." There was sorrow in his eyes, though it was well concealed."Are you mad? You're better than anyone in here.”

“Are you married?”“No.”She picked at her nails. “I'm not married, either.”

“Do you know how far the wall is from the mines?” He gave her blank look. She closed her eyes and sighed dramatically. “From my shaft, it was three hundred sixty-three feet. I had someone measure.”“So?” Dorian repeated.“Captain Westfall, how far do slaves make it from the mines when they try to escape?”“Three feet,” he muttered. “Endovier sentries usually shoot a man down before he's moved three feet.”The Crown Prince's silence was not her desired effect. “You knew it was suicide,” he said at last, the amusement gone. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to bring up the wall. “Yes.”...“I never intended to escape.”

“The Captain of the Guard would be an interesting opponent. Maybe even worthy of some effort on her part.”

“A ver si os sirve de lección,maestro de armas —dijo pasando por delante de él—. Ponedme a luchar contra hombres de verdad. Quizás entonces me moleste en emplearme a fondo.”

“¿Estás pensando en volver a morder el taco? Porque en ese casome gustaría llamar al pintor de la corte para recordar siempre esaimagen.”

“In the silence of her bedroom, she swore an oath to the moonlight that if Sam were hurt, no force in the world would hold her back from slaughtering everyone responsible.”

“Please don't go."He let out an uneven breath. "You'll be fine without me. You always have been."Maybe once, but not now. "How can I convince you to stay?""You can't."She threw down the torch. "Do you want me to beg, is that it?""No-never.""Then tell me-""What more can I say?" he exploded, his whisper rough and harsh "I’ve already told you everything—I’ve already told you that if I stay here, if I have to live with Arobynn, I'll snap his damned neck.”“But why? Why can’t you let it go?”He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Because I love you!”Her mouth fell open.“I love you,” he repeated, shaking her again. “I have for years. And he hurt you and made me watch because he’s always known how I felt, too. But if I asked you to pick, you’d choose Arobynn, and I. Can’t. Take. It.”The only sounds were their breathing, an uneven beat against the rushing of the sewer river.“You’re a damned idiot,” she breathed, grabbing the front of his tunic. “You’re a moron and an ass and a damned idiot.” He looked like she had hit him. But she went on, and grasped both sides of his face, "Because I'd pick you."And then she kissed him.”

“You can't go.""Give me a reason why I shouldn't.""Because I'll miss you, damn it!" she hissed, splaying her arms. "Because what's the point in anything if you just disappear forever?""The point in what, Celaena?" How could he be so calm when she was so frantic? "The point in Skull's Bay, and the point in getting me that music, and the point in... the point in telling Arobynn that you'd forgive him if he never hurt me again.""You said you didn't care what I thought. Or what I did. Or if I died, if I'm not mistaken.""I lied! And you know I lied you stupid bastard!”

“Well, I care what you think of me. I care enough that I stayed at this disgusting party for you. And I care enough that I'd attend a thousand more like it so I can spend a few hours with you when you aren't looking at me like I'm not worth the dirt beneath your shoes.”

“Celaena." She looked back at him, her red gown sweeping around her. His eyes shone as he flashed her a crooked grin. "I missed you this summer."She met his stare unflinchingly, returning the smile as she said, "I hate to admit it, Sam Cortland, but I missed your sorry ass, too.”

“My price was his oath that he'd never lay a hand on you again. I told him I'd forgive him in exchange for that."She wished he'd punched her in the gut. It would have hurt less. Not trusting herself to keep from falling to her knees with shame right there, she just stalked down the hall.”

“She looked at the exquisite red carpet beneath her feet. Someone had done a splendid job of getting all the blood out.”

“I'll kill you! Sam had screamed it at Arobynn as the King of the Assassins beat her. He'd roared it. In those horrible minutes, whatever bond had sprung up between her and Sam hadn't broken. He'd switched loyalties- he'd chosen to stand by her, fight for her. If anything, that made him different from Ansel. Sam could have hurt or betrayed her a dozen times over, but he'd never jumped at the opportunity.”

“It wasn't that she was mad at him for being uninjured. She was so relieved she could have vomited, actually.”

“As the memory of that day echoed through her, she remembered the words Sam kept screaming at Arobynn, as the King of the Assassins beat her, the words that she'd somehow forgotten in the fog of pain: I'll kill you! Sam had said it like he meant it. He'd bellowed it, again and again and again...”

“Mikhail truly liked Ansel-that much was obvious. he always found excuses to touch her, always smiled at her, always looked at her as if she were the only person in the room. Celeana sloshed her wine around in her glass. If she were being honest, sometimes she thought Sam looked at her that way. But then he'd go and say something absurd, or try to undermine her, and she'd chide herself for even thinking about him. Her stomach tightened. What had Arobynn done to him that night? She should have inquired after him. But in the day's after him, she's been so busy, wrapped up in her rage... She hadn't dared look for him, actually. Because if Arobynn had hurt Sam the way he'd hurt her... Celeana drained the rest of her wine.”

“Hisli's tail flicked to the side as the arrow buried itself in the sand just inches behind her rear hooves. But Ansel didn't dare look over he shoulder. She kept riding, and she did not stop. Celeana lowered her bow and watched until Ansel disappeared beyond the horizon. One arrow, that had been her promise. But she's also promised Ansel that she's had twenty minutes to get out of range. Celeana had fired after twenty-one.”

“I think you will leave a lasting imprint on Ansel's heart. You spared her life, and returned her father's sword. And maybe when she makes her next move to reclaim her title, she will remember the assassin from the North and the kindness you showed her, and try to leave fewer bodies in her wake.”

“Well, he was certainly desirable-as desirable as Sam, maybe. Sam-when had she ever thought of him as desirable? He'd laugh until he died if ever knew she thought of him like that.”

“With nothing else to distract her, Celeana eventually returned to thinking about Sam. Even weeks later, she had no idea how she'd somehow gotten attached to him, what he'd been shouting when Arobynn beat her, and why Arobynn had thought he'd need three seasoned assassins to restrain him that day.”

“Arobynn hit her-her ribs, her jaw, her gut. And her face. Again and again and again. Careful blows, meant to inflict as much pain as possible without doing permanent damage. And Sam kept roaring, shouting words that she couldn't quite hear over the agony. The last thing she remembered was a pang of guilt at the sight of her blood staining Arobynn's exquisite red carpet. And then darkness, blissful darkness, full of relief that she hadn't seen them hurt Sam.”

“The undergarments were plain-and folded. Who folded their undergarments? Celeana thought of her enormous closet back home, exploding with colour and different fabrics and patterns, all tossed together. Her undergarments, while expensive, usually wound up in a heap in their drawer. Sam, probably, folded his undergarments. Though, depending on how much of him Arobynn left intact, he might not be able to now. Arobynn would never permanently main her, but Sam might have faired worse. Sam had always been the expendable one.”

“Words could be just as deadly as steel.”

“Wasn't that wonderful?"Breathing hard, Celeana didn't say anything as she punched Ansel so hard in the face that the girl went flying off her horse and tumbled onto the sand. Ansel just clutched her jaw and laughed.”

“If you can learn to endure pain, you can survive anything. Some people learn to embrace it—to love it. Some endure it through drowning it in sorrow, or by making themselves forget. Others turn it into anger. But Ansel let her pain become hate, and let it consume her until she became something else entirely—a person I don’t think she ever wished to be”

“Maybe I'm just unable to resist how handsome he is," she said. Sam went rigid."He's twelve years older than you.""So?" He didn't think he was serious, did he?”

“Sam stared at her long enough for heat to flood her cheek, as if he could see right inside of her-see everything. The fact that he didn't turn away from whatever he saw made her blood thrum through her veins.”

“Nervous?" he asked, his voice barely audible above the steady slice of his oars through the calm bay. "No," she lied."Me too.”

“Sam smiled, his brown eyes turning golden in the dawn. It was such a Sam look, the twinkle of mischief, the hint of exasperation, the kindness that would always, always make him a better person than she was.”

“He couldn't be dead. Not from the dagger, or those dozen pirates, or from the catapult. No, Sam couldn't be so stupid that he'd get himself killed. She'd... she'd... Well she'd kill him if he was dead.”

“But he was a filthy pirate. They were Arobynn Hamel's assassin-educated, wealthy, refined. Slavery was beneath them.”

“El valor del corazón es algo muy infrecuente. Deja que te guíe”

“—Odio a esa clase de mujeres. Están tan desesperadas por llamarla atención de los hombres que con gusto traicionarían y perjudicaríana sus compañeras de sexo. ¡Y luego decimos que los hombres sonincapaces de pensar con el cerebro! Por lo menos, los hombres hablan claramente.”

“We all bear scars,... Mine just happen to be more visible than most.”

“My name is Celaena Sardothien. But it makes no difference if my name's Celaena or Lillian or Bitch, because I'd still beat you, no matter what you call me.”

“- ¿Y bien?-Esas cicatrices son horribles -respondió él, casi en susurros. Ella ses llevó la mano a la cadera y se encaminó al vestidor.-Todos tenemos cicatrices, Dorian. Resulta que las mías son más visibles que las de la mayoría.”

“No. I can survive well enough on my own— if given the proper reading material.”

“Guards are of no use in a library.Oh, how wrong he was! Libraries were full of ideas—perhaps the most dangerous and powerful of all weapons.”

“Get up.”