Archer's Voice Quotes

Sometimes an understanding silence was better than a bunch of meaningless words.

I lost my heart to you. And, Bree, in case you're wondering, I don't ever want it back.

Try to believe that maybe more light shines out of those who have the most cracks.

Someday … when we're old and gray, I'm going to look at you lying in bed beside me, just like this, and I'm going to look into your eyes and know that it's only ever been you. And that is going to be the great joy of my life.

I stand by my logic though. I think love is a concept, and each person has an individual word for what sums it up for them. My word for love is Bree.

I'm afraid to love you. I'm afraid that you'll leave and that I'll go back to being alone again. Only it will be a hundred times worse because I'll know what I'm missing. I can't…” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I want to be able to love you more than I fear losing you, and I don't know how. Teach me, Bree. Please teach me. Don't let me destroy this.

You brought the silence, The most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.

..the loudest words are the ones we live.

I knew I loved her – fiercely and with every part of my heart, even the broken parts, even the parts that felt unworthy and without value. And maybe those parts most of all.

I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now, but I thought if I sat on your porch, you wouldn't be scared. You wouldn't be alone.

I CAN SPEAK. I JUST LIKE TO SHOW OFF MY NICE PENMANSHIP.

Each night before I fall asleep, I make it a point to turn to my wife and silently say "Only you, only ever you". And her love slips quietly around me, holding me, anchoring me, reminding me that the loudest words are the ones we live.

Maybe there was no right or wrong, no black or white, only a thousand shades of gray when it came to pain and what we each held ourselves responsible for.

I didn’t know enough to dream you, Bree, but somehow you came true anyway. How did that happen?” He rubbed his nose along mine, pausing and then pulling back again. “Who read my mind and knew exactly what I wanted, even when I didn’t?

Loving another person always means opening yourself up for hurt

...not all great acts of courage are obvious to those looking in from the outside.

I want to be able to love you more than I fear losing you

And sometimes, that's all it takes–one person who's willing to listen to your heart, to the sound no one else has ever tried to hear.

I'm here for you. I'm here because of you. I'm here because you saw me, not just with your eyes, but with your heart. I'm here because you wanted to know what I had to say and because you were right...everyone does need friends.

She said she knew we were safe with you, and always would be, because once, when she asked you to, you'd given up the thing you most wanted." Archer received this strange communication in silence. His eyes remained unseeingly fixed on the thronged sunlit square below the window. At length he said in a low voice: "She never asked me.

I realized that people's reactions had more to do with them, more to do with who they were, than anything about me

How do you teach a man who has lost everything, not to fear it happening again?

Bad things don't happen to people because they deserve for them to happen. It just doesn't work that way. It's just… life. And no matter who we are, we have to take the hand we're dealt, crappy though it may be, and try our very best to move forward anyway, to love anyway, to have hope anyway… to have faith that there's a purpose to the journey we're on.

This is that burden I was talking about, Bree. This is what the burden of loving me looks like.” “Loving you isn't a burden. Loving you is an honor and a joy, Archer.

It suddenly occurred to me that Archer Hale had taught himself an entire language, but hadn't had a single person to talk to. Until me.

He smiled back and put his lips against mine, mouthing, “I love you, too,” against my mouth, as if he was breathing love into my body.

You’re my everything, Bree.

Bad things don't happen to people because they deserve for them to happen. It just doesn't work that way. It's just... life

Did you… want me to kiss you yesterday? Did you want me to touch you? His lips parted slightly, and he watched me for my answer like his life depended on it.

Only you, only ever you.

I’m in love with you too. I am so desperately in love with you. Is it enough, Bree?

love was all about learning to speak a person's language.

There is nothing to find out. What I know, is that you walked through my gate that day and I lost my heart. But not because it could have been any girl-because it was you. I lost my heart to you. And, Bree, in case you're wondering, I don't ever want it back.

Heather turned her voice up full volume. “Gabriel Michael Archer, wake up this minute!” With his eyes still closed, he grumbled, “My middle name isn’t Michael.” “I don’t care. Wake up!

It’s like, the second I saw him, my life started.

I try to believe that something beautiful can result from something ugly, and that there will come a time when I'll get to see what that is.

You brought the silence, The most beautiful sound I'd ever heard, Because it was where you were. And now you've taken it away. And all the noises, all the sounds in the world, Aren't loud enough to pierce my broken heart. I look up at the stars, endless and forever, and whisper, Come back to me, Come back to me, Come back to me.

I guess if it wasn't beautiful, the tragedy ultimately wouldn't be sad.

I didn't know enough to dream you, Bree, but somehow you came true anyway. How did that happen?

I know you like my hands in your hair. Show me other ways you like to be touched. Teach me what you like, he said

She had told me my voice mattered, and her love had made me believe it might be true. And sometimes, that's all it takes–one person who's willing to listen to your heart, to the sound no one else has ever tried to hear.

I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I wish you could read my mind so that you would know how much I want you, no one else. There could be three hundred men after me right now, and it wouldn't matter. Because none of them are you, Archer Hale. None of them are the man I love.

Can we kiss some more? he asked, his eyes shining with desire

I'm here for you. I'm here because of you. I'm here because you saw me, not just with your eyes, but with your heart.

I was glad he didn’t try to come up with something encouraging to say. Sometimes an understanding silence was better than a bunch of meaningless words.

the loudest words are the ones we live.

You’re here. I’m here for you.

God, that’s sexy,” Melanie said. “It’s like you two are talking dirty right out in the open.” Archer smiled over at her and I laughed. I shook my head. “Maybe you two should learn sign so you can join us.” I grinned.

I want to be able to love you, more than I fear losing you, and I don’t know how.

Chiron's wound symbolizes the transformative power of suffering–how personal pain, both physical and emotional, can become the source of great moral and spiritual strength.

They don't know who you are, Archer. They have no idea. And they don't deserve to know. Don't let their judgment hurt you.

I was finally home. Not the place, but his arms. Archer’s arms were my home- the only place I wanted to be, the place where I felt safe. The place where I felt loved.

Oh, good, it worked,” Archer said, his ghostly face relieved. Unlike Elodie, his voice came in loud and clear, and so familiar that my heart broke all over again. I stood frozen, my back against the door. Even though he was faint, I could see him smirk. “Um…Mercer? Haven’t seen you in nearly a month. I was expecting something like, ‘Oh, Cross, love of my heart, fire of my loins, how I’ve longed—’” “You’re dead,” I blurted out, pressing a hand against my stomach. “You’re a ghost, and you think—” All the humor disappeared from his face, and he held up both hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not dead. Promise.” My heart was still hammering. “Then what the heck are you?” Archer almost looked sheepish as he reached inside his shirt and pulled out some kind of amulet on a thin silver chain. “It’s a speaking stone. Lets you appear to people kind of like a hologram. You know. ‘Help me, Sophie-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.’” “Did you steal it from the cellar at Hecate, too?” Archer had collected all sorts of magical knickknacks back when we had cellar duty at Hex Hall. “No,” he said, offended. “I found it at a…store. For magical stuff. Okay, yes, I stole it from the cellar.

I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now, but I just thought if I sat on your porch, you wouldn't be scared. You wouldn't be alone.

I felt him smile against my skin, but he didn’t raise his head and he didn’t attempt to move, his body laying half on me, and half on the bed so I wasn’t being crushed. “Hey,” I said softly, “you alive there?” I felt another slow grin against my neck and then he shook his head, no. I laughed softly and his head came up, a sweet smile on his face.

No, I’m surprised he didn’t say goodbye.” “Well, of course he didn’t say goodbye.” Heather put down her mug. “You would have convinced him to stay.” “That’s not true.” “Oh, please.” Heather rolled her eyes. “You would have been like Oh, Tristan, please don’t go. Stay with me so I can crush on you and giggle at everything you say.” Heather nodded. “That’s what it would have been like. In that high-pitched voice and everything.

And then that voice from behind her said her name again. "Celaena." They had done this. Her bloody fingers slid down Dorian's face, to his neck. He just stared at her, suddenly still. "Celaena," a familiar voice said. A warning. They had did this. They had betrayed her. Betrayed Nehemia. They had taken her away. Her nail brushed Dorian's exposed throat. "Celaena," the voice said. Celaena slowly turned. Chaol stared at her, a hand on his sword. The sword she'd brought to the warehouse- the sword she'd left there. Archer had told her that Chaol had known they were going to do this. He had known. She shattered completely, and launched herself at him.

..."my wounded healer, my beautiful Archer.

I couldn’t have known that Archer Hale existed somewhere in this crazy world, and that he had been made just for me. And in that moment, I knew. I was falling in love with the beautiful, silent man staring down at me. If I hadn’t already fallen.

There's nothing any of us can do about the possibility of loss

My eyes moved over his face. 'Why did you do it?' He was silent for a couple beats, looking down, taking his bottom lip between his teeth before he brought his hands up and said, 'I don't know.' His expression turned thoughtful, his eyes meeting mine, and then he continued. 'When you were in the trap, I couldn't speak to you to reassure you. You can't hear me...I can't help that.' He looked down for a second and then back up at me. 'But I want you to see me.' An expression of vulnerability washed over his face. 'Now you can see me.

I wans to be able to love you more than I fear losing you, and I don't know how. Teach me, Bree. Please teach me. Don't let me destroy this.

He was so beautiful. I felt something catch in my chest and knew it was just him, taking my breath away.

And try to believe that maybe more light shines out of those who have the most cracks.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her into my arms, kissing her lips and falling in love with her, just like I still did a thousand times a day.

He smiled. I still wasn't used to getting them, and this one made my heart speed up just a little bit. They were like a rare gift that he gave out. I snatched it up and stored it somewhere inside of me.

I think love is a concept, and each person has an individual word for them. My word is Bree.

He brought both hands up and said, You can speak the old-fashioned way. I can hear you, remember? I blinked at him and after a few seconds brought my hands up. If it's okay with you, I'd like to speak your language. I smiled a small smile.

What I know, is that you walked through my gate that day and I lost my heart. But not because it could have been any girl–because it was you. I lost my heart to you. And, Bree, in case you're wondering, I don't ever want it back.

I don't want to be with anyone except you. I didn't want her, I only want you. I only want you, Bree.

What’s on your happy list?

No matter who we are, we have to take the hand we're dealt, crappy though it may be, and try our very best to move forward anyway, to love anyway, to have hope anyway... to have faith that there's a purpose to the journey we're on... And try to believe that maybe more light shines out of those who have the most cracks.

I thought about my dad the whole time I sat there, remembering special moments, we'd shared, reminiscing about the little quirks he had, picturing his face so clearly in my mind. I focused on what I had had, on what some people never got for even a minute. I had had him for twenty-one years. I was lucky-I had been blessed.

As I stood there holding onto him, it occurred to me that not all great acts of courage are obvious to those looking in from the outside. But I saw this moment for what it was–a boy who had never been made to feel that he was wanted anywhere, showing up and asking others to accept him. It made my heart soar with pride for the beautiful act of bravery that was Archer Hale stepping into this small town diner.

I thought about how Bree and I were so different... and yet so similar. She carried the guilt of not fighting when she thought she should have, and I carried the scar of what happened when you did. We had each reacted differently in a moment of terror, and yet we both still hurt. Maybe there was no right or wrong, no black or white, only a thousand shades of gray when it came to pain and what we each held ourselves responsible for.

I was sitting in this small coffee shop a couple days ago and I saw this old man sitting at a table across from me. He looked so lonely, so sad. I was too, but it suddenly occurred to me that some people go through their whole lives never being loved or loving as deeply as I love you. There's always going to be the chance that I could lose you in this lifetime. There's nothing any of us can do about the possibility of loss. But in that moment, I decided that I was more interested in focusing on the great privilege I've been given in having you at all.

One day, he put a bowl of potato chips out while I was preparing us lunch and as I snacked on them, I noticed that they were all the folded ones that I loved, but usually had to hunt for. I looked down at the chips and then up at Archer, confused. "All these chips… they're all folded," I said, thinking I sounded crazy. Aren't those the ones you like?

An intercom popped on and Paris dais, "Knock. Knock." Static and then a woman's voice said, "Who's there?" Kat raised a brow at me, and I shrugged. "The interruption cow," Paris said, glancing at Luc, who shook his head. From the intercom, "The inter-" "Moooooo!" Pars dais, snickerin. Kat giggled. Archer rolled his eyes and shook his head. There was an audible huff from the intercom. "That was stupid. The gate is opening. Give ist a sec." "That was pretty lame" I said. Paris chuckled. "I saw it on the Internet. Made me laugh. I got more. Want to hear them?" "No." My rebuttal was joined by Archer's. Something we agreed on. Huh. Go figure. "Too bad." Paris eased forward as the gated split, spreading wide. "That wasn't even my best one.

The sun was just beginning to rise when we reached the corn mill, which surprised me until I remembered that A) England has freakishly early sunrises in the summer, and B) we'd been gone nearly two hours. I was pretty sure I'd never been so wiped out in my entire life. I felt hollow and exhausted, and as I looked at Archer, almost unbearably sad. I tried to tell myself that it was just because I'd been nearly squished by the space-time continuum,but I knew that wasn't it. I think Archer was feeling something similar, because his hands shook slightly as he lifted the chain from around our necks. It hit the floor with a heavy thump, sending up a cloud of dust motes. They sparkled in the shaft of pale pink light that fell between us, looking surprisingly pretty for dirt. Archer's face was streaked with sweat, and there was a smudge above his left eyebrow, as well as a dark stain on his torso that was probably ghoul blood. I had a feeling I looked just as rough. "Well," he said at last, his voice slightly hoarse. "That was the worst first date I've ever been on.

But as I stood across from Archer, I couldn't forget that I was completely, stupidly in love with the one person I could never have. The laughter died on my lips, and I dashed at my eyes with the back of my hand. "I need to get back," I said. "Right," he replied. He was still holding his sword in his right hand, and he twirled the hilt, the point sratching the wooden floor. "So this is it. We're done." "Yeah," I said, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat. "And I have to say, the world's first and last Eye-demon reconnaissance mission went pretty well." It was a struggle to meet his eyes, but I managed it. "Thank you." He shrugged, his dark gaze full of something I couldn't quite read. "We were a good team." "We were." In more ways than one, I thought. Which is why this sucked so bad. I stepped back. "Anyway, I should go. See ya,Cross." Then I laughed, only it sounded suspiciously like another sob. "Except I won't, will I So I guess I should say goodbye." I felt like I was about to shatter into a million tiny shards, like the mirrors I'd broken with Dad. "okay, well, best of luck with the whole Eye thing, then. Try not to kill anyone I know." I turned away, but he reached out and caught my wrist. I could feel my pulse hammering under his fingers. "Mercer, that day in the cellar..." He searched my face, and I could sense him struggling for what he wanted to say. Then finally, "I didn't kiss you back because I had to. I kissed you because I wanted to." His eyes dropped to my lips,and it was like the whole world had shrunk to just me and him and the shaft of light between us. "I still want to," he said hoarsely. He tugged my wrist and pulled me into his arms. My brain registered the sound of his sword clattering to he ground as his other hand came up to grab the back of my neck, but once his lips were on mine, everything else faded away. I clutched at his shoulders, raising up on my tiptoes, and kissed him with everything I had in me. As the kiss deepened, we held each other tighter, so I didn't know if the pounding heartbeat I felt was mine or his. How stupid,I thought dreamily, to have ever thought I could give this up. Not just the kissing, although, as Archer's hands cupped my face, I had to admit that part was pretty awesome. But all of it: joking with him and working beside him. Being with a guy who was my friend and could still make me feel like this.