Thank you Lisa for hosting this great meme!
Welcome to Thursday Quotable! This feature is the place to highlight a great quote, line, or passage discovered during your reading each week. Whether it’s something funny, startling, gut-wrenching, or just really beautifully written, Thursday Quotable is where my favorite lines will be, and you’re invited to join in!
Remy gawked, looking around the room. It was fit for a queen. She glanced at Hale as he watched her with a smug expression. She supposed they designed it to fit royalty, since he was, in fact, a prince. His status hadn’t confronted her so much as it had in this moment. They had travelled through the woods and backcountry. There had been no praise or fawning over Hale as they journeyed this far. But now, in fae society, he held himself differently. He acted like he was aware of the deferential stares of the surrounding people. He stood straighter, his chin tilted higher. It made Remy wonder if she knew which face was the mask and which one was real.
When you try to present different personalities, when will you lose the real you?
Remy turned those words around in her mind, picking them apart in different ways. Her life meant more to him than what? Than only being a useful tool in their quest for the High Mountain talismans? What did “more” mean? Remy did not know. Ugh, she thought, these bloody fae and their half-truth words.
I feel like Remy is fierce and brave, but she also doesn’t really see that she has any worth. Not that I can blame her with the type of life she’s had to live.
My grandmother died about three years ago now. Sometimes its hard to remember the topography of her face. or the sound of her voice. I wonder if we all fade from memory so quickly after we pass. I wonder if one day I’ll forget what Alex sounded like, too.
This quote hit me hard. My sister died when I was nineteen years old. She was only fourteen. The original grief hit me hard. Then I started to have to strain to hear her laugh in my head and felt a new wave of grief.
Every house at Dalloway has its secrets, a relic of the school’s history. As Leonie so astutely pointed out, Dalloway was founded by Deliverance Lemont, the daughter of a Salem witch and allegedly a practitioner herself. Some secrets are easier: a secret passageway from the kitchen to the common room, a collection of old exam papers. Boleyn’s like Godwin’s is darker.
I mean I was really invested from the very beginning of this book, but this paragraph here pulled me in even further. I can’t wait to read more into everything.
I’d love to see some of your favorite quotes of the week!
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