“Eleanor's voice was below zero. 'My finest horse to whichever faerie in this room brings me that woman's left eye.'My thoughts exactly.”

“Oh, fine, Eleanor thought. The children of hell shan’t go hungry on my watch.”

“For reasons that will become obvious, I call this story, "There's a Horse in My Living Room." It's about how I wound up with a horse in my living room.”

“Noah's fingers lightly touched the long thick ridge below my left shoulder blade. His voice pitched low. "I'm sorry, baby." "No one else knows, Noah. Not even Lila." He kissed my back as he slid his hand over the scars on my arm. "You 're beautiful", he whispered against my skin. Noah lifted my arm and kept eye contact as his mouth trailed kisses along the scars. Pure hunger darkened those chocolate-brown eyes. "Kiss me.”

“To the pain means this: if we duel and you win, death for me. If we duel and I win, life for you. But life on my terms. The first thing you lose will be your feet. Below the ankle. You will have stumps available to use within six months. Then your hands, at the wrists. They heal somewhat quicker. Five months is a fair average. Next your nose. No smell of dawn for you. Followed by your tongue. Deeply cut away. Not even a stump left. And then your left eye—" And then my right eye, and then my ears, and shall we get on with it?" the Prince said. Wrong!" Westley’s voice rang across the room. "Your ears you keep, so that every shriek of every child shall be yours to cherish—every babe that weeps in fear at your approach, every woman that cries 'Dear God, what is that thing?' will reverberate forever with your perfect ears.”

“My life had gone right; it had gone exactly as it needed to in order to bring me here.”