We need hope, or else we cannot endure.

He looked at his friend, perhaps for the last time, and said what he had always known, from the moment they’d met, when he’d understood that the prince was his brother in soul. “I love you.

I didn’t think saying good-bye would be so hard. And with everything that’s to come—We’ll face it together. To whatever end.

What we think to be our greatest weakness can sometimes be our biggest strength.

For him, I had done this-for him I'd gladly wrecked myself and my immortal soul. And now I had an eternity to live with it.

Maybe I'd always been broken and dark inside. Maybe someone who've been born whole and good would have put down the ash dagger and embraced death rather than what lay before me.

There are good days and hard days for me. Don't let the hard days win ~Mor ~A Court of Mist and Fury

We'd better eat before we raise hell." - Aelin Ashrvyer Galathynius

And he will never know what it is to look up at the night sky and wish.

We each survive in our own way.

If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?" - Lucien Vanserra

They had slept in the shelter of the ruins, though neither of them really got true rest.

Libraries were full of ideas—perhaps the most dangerous and powerful of all weapons.

She didn't fear the night, though she found little comfort in its dark hours.

Was I interrupting? I thought it was over." Rhys gave me a smile dripping with venom. He knew-through that bond, through whatever magic was between us, he'd known I was about to say no. "At least Feyre seemed to think so.

She wouldn't ask. Didn't want to know what manner of thing might crawl toward a fire.

Rhys gave no warning as he gripped my arm, snarling softly, and tore off my glove. His touch was like a brand, and I flinched, yielding a step, but he held firm until he'd gotten both gloves off. " I heard you begging someone, anyone, to rescue you, to get you out. I heard you say no." "I didn't say anything." He turned my bare hand over, his hold tightening as he examined the eye he'd tattooed. He tapped the pupil. Once. Twice. " I heard it loud and clear.

It didn't excuse what he'd done. Even if he'd...saved me-I choked on the word-from having to refuse Tamlin. Having to explain.

Wrong kind of witch." - Manon Blackbeak

And if I asked for the moon on a string?" - Sorsha

Holy gods. He'd frozen the whole damn lake. He was THAT powerful?

It was easier to not have to explain, anyway. To not have to tell him that though I'd freed him, saved his people and all of Prythian from Amarantha... I'd broken myself apart. And I didn't think even eternity would be long enough to fix me.

Sometimes, the wicked will tell us things just to confuse us–to haunt our thoughts long after we've faced them.