540 Quotes by Kiersten White

Images of being empress next to Mehmed haunted her when she closed her eyes. It was the worst part of everything, knowing that, on some level, she wanted that much power, even at that cost.

He clapped delightedly and stood. “Here you are!” “Where are we?” Lada asked. “In my chambers!” “And who are you, to earn such esteem from the devil?” Radu elbowed her. The boy’s smile turned wicked. “Why, I am the son of the devil himself. Mehmed the Second, son of Murad.

You bet I’m trouble.

Yes. He wanted Mehmed to look at him the way he had looked at Lada. He wanted Mehmed to kiss him the way he had kissed Lada. He wanted to be Lada. No, he did not. He wanted to be himself, and he wanted Mehmed to love him for being himself. His question, the question of Mehmed, was finally answered, piercing him and leaving him shaking, silent, on the floor. He did not want this answer.

Their smiles are lies. Most smiles are.

I sought to puncture Heaven and instead discovered Hell.

Radu had practiced the poem so often he could recite it in his sleep. He had stolen shiny bits from famous Arabic poems, gathering them like a raven to line his own nest. The language was dense and flowery, hyperbolic in the extreme. Murad listened, enraptured, as his reign was likened to the ocean and his posterity a mighty river.

The more pliable the prince, the more power they had. And who could be more pliable than a simple girl, playing at the throne?

Guinevere realized with a start that what she missed most about Mordred was the sense that he saw her. In every room, in every situation, he had seen her first and foremost.