233 Quotes by V.E. Schwab

Kell tipped his head so that his copper hair tumbled out of his eyes, revealing not only the crisp blue of the left one but the solid black of the right. A black that ran edge to edge, filling white and iris both. There was nothing human about that eye. It was pure magic. The mark of the blood magician.

When they were still together, when everything was a plural instead of a singular

The man's name was Booth, and he had to piss.

Hastra handed him a blanket. "Shouldn't you take off her knives?""There's not enough tonic in the world to risk it," said Kell.

Belief is a bit like gravity. Enough people believe a thing, and it becomes as solid and real as the ground beneath your feet.

Myths do not happen all at once. They do not spring forth whole into the world. They form slowly, rolled between the hands of time until their edges smooth, until the saying of the story gives enough weight to the words—to the memories—to keep them rolling on their own. But all stories start somewhere, and that night, as Rhy Maresh walked through the streets of London, a new myth was taking shape.

She sank her teeth into his bottom lip, drawing blood, and gave a wicked laugh, and still he kissed her. Not out of desperation or hope or for luck, but simply because he wanted to. Saints, he wanted to. He kissed her until the cold night fell away and his whole body sang with heat. He kissed her until the fire burned up the panic and the anger and the weight in his chest, until he could breathe again, and until they were both breathless.

This is why I run. Because caring was a thing with claws. It sunk them in and didn’t let go. Caring hurt more than a knife to the leg. More than a few broken ribs. More than anything that bled or broke and healed again. Caring didn’t break you clean. It was a bone that wouldn’t set, a cut that wouldn’t close. It was better not to care... but sometimes people got in.

Estelle used to call these the restless days, when the warmer-blooded gods began to stir, and the cold ones began to settle. When dreamers were most prone to bad ideas, and wanderers were likely to get lost.