Cal And Mare Quotes

In the palace, during my imprisonment, I learned that Maven had been made by his mother, formed into the monster he became. There is nothing on earth that can change him or what she did. But Cal was made too. All of us were made by someone else, and all of us have some thread of steel that nothing and no one can cut.

Strange that she is both the anchor against the storm and the storm itself.

It’s not something you can control, Mare,” he replies, still standing so far away. “We can’t choose who we love. I wish, more than anything, that we could.” I feel cracked open. My skin still runs hot from Cal’s embrace, remembering the feel of him only moments ago. But in the deepest part of me, in spite of every fiber of my being, I think beyond the clearing, to ice-colored eyes, an empty promise, and a kiss aboard a boat.

Another round," she goads, and holds out a hand for the cards. "I bet a week of laundry." Across from us, Cal stops his preparatory stretching to snort. "You think Mare does laundry?" "Do you, Your Highness?" I snap back, grinning. He just pretends not to hear me.

Anyone can betray anyone!

You want to thank me, Barrow?" she mutters, kicking away the last of my bindings. "Then keep your word. And let this fucking place burn.

I cling to Cal, Kilorn, Shade, to saving all the newbloods I can, because I am afraid of waking up to emptiness, to a place where my friends and family are gone and I am nothing but a single bolt of lightning in the blackness of a lonely storm. If I am a sword, I am a sword made of glass, and I feel myself begin to shatter.

He's hunting newbloods not to protect his throne but to hurt you. To find you. To make you come back to him." His fist clenches on his thigh. "Maven wants you more than anything else on this earth." Would that Maven were here now, so I could rip out his horrible, haunting eyes. "Well, he can't have me." I realize the consequences of this, and so does Cal. "Not even if it stops the killing? Not for the newbloods?" Tears bite my eyes. "I won't go back. For anyone." I expect his judgment, but instead he smiles and ducks his head. Ashamed of his own reaction, as I am of mine.

I can feel him slipping down not just the hall but a dark and twisted path. It makes me afraid for the boy who taught me how to dance

Cal: Thief! mare: WELL OBVIOUSLY

Look through people,” I tell her, my voice muffled by the helmet. “Smile without kindness. No small talk, no court talk. Act as if you have a million secrets, and you’re the only one important enough to know them all.” She nods, taking this all in stride. After all, Cal and I have both instructed her on how to pass as Maven. This is merely a reminder, a last glance at the book before the test. “I’m not a fool,” she replies coldly, and I almost punch her in the jaw. She is not Maven rings in my head, louder than a bell. “I think you’ve got it,” Kilorn says as he stands. He grabs my arm, pulling me slightly away. “Mare nearly killed you.

My skin burs under Maven's gaze, with the memory of one stolen kiss. It was him who saved me from Evangeline. Cal who saved me from escaping and bringing more pain upon myself. Cal who saved me from conscription. I've been too busy trying to save others to notice how much Cal saves me. How much he loves me.

In the palace, during my imprisonment, I learned that Maven had been made by his mother, formed into the monster he became. There is nothing on earth that can change him or what she did. But Cal was made too. All of us were made by someone else, and all of us have some thread of steel that nothing and no one can cut. I thought Cal was immune to the corruptive temptation of power. How wrong I was. He was born to be a king. It's what he was made for. It's what he was made to want.

You aren't alone." The hope in his eyes cuts deeply. "You have your crown.

I don't recognize Cal's voice anymore. I've turned him into a monster. I forced his hand. I made him choose. I was eager, I was stupid. I let myself hope. I am a fool. - Mare Barrow

We’ve taken everything from her, brother,” Maven murmurs, drawing close. “Surely we can give her this?” And then slowly, reluctantly, Cal nods and waves me into his room. Dizzy with excitement, I hurry inside, almost hopping from foot to foot. I’m going home. Maven lingers at the door, his smile fading a little when I leave his side. “You’re not coming.” It isn’t a question. He shakes his head. “You’ll have enough to worry about without me tagging along.” I don’t have to be a genius to see the truth in his words. But just because he isn’t coming doesn’t mean I will forget what he’s done for me already. Without thinking, I throw my arms around Maven. He doesn’t respond for a second, but slowly lets an arm drop around my shoulders. When I pull back, a silver blush paints his cheeks. I can feel my own blood run hot beneath my skin, pounding in my ears.

Cal's eyes flicker, out to the trees. But he's not looking at the leaves. His gaze is in the past, to something more painful. "She killed my true mother as well. And she'll kill all of us if we let her." The words come out hard and harsh, a rusty blade to saw flesh. They taste wonderful in my mouth. "Not if I kill her first." For all his talents, Cal is not a violent person. He can kill you in a thousand different ways, lead an army, burn down a village, but he will not enjoy it. So his next words take me by surprise. "When the time comes," he says, staring at me, "we'll flip a coin." His bright flame has grown dark indeed.

Preciso resfriar o coração para a única pessoa capaz de fazê-lo arder.

Cal is a cliff and i throw myself over the edge - Mare Barrow

Didn’t want to overload you

I will never make the mistake of loving you ever again." "So you choose him?" That's all it ever was. Jealousy. Rivalry. All so shadow could defeat the flame. "Cal betrayed me, and I betrayed him. And you betrayed us both, in a thousand different ways. I choose no one.

The choke?" I exclaim, perplexed. Next to me, Cal tries his best to be civil. His best isn't very good. "Idiocy," he snaps. "The Choke has more Silvers than you know, each one instructed to arrest or kill you on sight. If you're lucky, they'll take you back to prison.

From the pilot's seat, Cal glowers. "He's done enough." He watches me take the chair next to him, seething all the while. "You really want to storm a secret prison built for people like us?" "Would you rather let Julian die?" No answer but for a low hiss. "That's what I thought.

You opened your eyes, Mare. That’s all that matters.

But still, you feel no remorse for the dead. You do whatever you can to forget them. You abandoned your family without a word. You can't control yourself. Hald the time you run away from leadership, and the other half you act like some untouchable martyr, crowned in guilt, the only person who's really giving herself to the cause. Look around you, Mare Barrow. Shade's not the only one who died in Corros. You are not the only one to make sacrifices. Farley betrayed her father. You forced Cameron to join us against her will, you chose to ignore everything but Julian's list, and now you want to abandon the kids back at the Notch. For what? To step on the Colonel's neck? To take a throne? To kill anyone who looks at you the wrong way?

Per a mi els Balcans són un color, no un topònim. Els noms s’obliden més fàcilment, només cal que t’omplis de paraules estranyes, de mapes estranys, i de les lletres que desapareixen com el sucre a la llengua. Però els colors romanen, com pampallugues sota les parpelles, encara que hagi abandonat el sentimentalisme a casa la mare, fa molt de temps. Els colors no s’esborren amb quilòmetres. Un matís verd i feixuc, com els pebrots oblidats, secs i pansits, que ja no serveixen per nodrir ningú. Un marró trist que serpenteja com un riu mort després de l’apocalipsi. El color d’una mòmia devorada pels cucs. S’entreveuen les empremtes de les botes, encara que sigui impossible veure-les des d’aquesta altura. Tan sols és un miratge. Centenars de botes sobre la terra batuda. I els matolls, tumors d’un erd pàl·lid vora el riu, matolls cansats, però encara silvestres, cadascun amb el seu signe d’interrogació a sobre. Hi va morir algú, aquí? Algú hi va matar, aquí?

Frases amb les quals hem crescut i que ens han marcat 1. Les llàgrimes són una forma d'autocompassió. 2. Posa't una faixa i tingues les cames tancades... Les bones noies no... 3. Les dones no són felices. 4. Les dones són responsables de la felicitat de la família. 5. No es pot confiar en les dones. 6. El món és cruel. 7. Les dones de més de 40 no són atractives. 8. Si sóc lletja no m'estimarà ningú. 9. No puc... 10. La roba bruta no es renta en públic... 11. Sempre m'he de sentir bé... 12. Res del que faig és suficient... 13. Això és feina d'homes o això és feina de dones. 14. Els nens són responsabilitat meva. 15. La meva germana (amant, amiga, fill, gos, etc) és millor que jo. 16. La vida és dura i després et mors. 17. Amb els homes cal tenir paciència. 18. Hauries hagut de néixer home. 19. Per què vols estudiar, si t'has de casar? 20. El lloc de la dona és la cuina. 21. Les dones són tafaneres. 22. Amb el nostre amor farem canviar la persona que estimem. 23. Si la mare està bé, tots estan bé. 24. Qui ha dit que la vida sigui fàcil? 25. No portis la contrària al teu marit.