Gwen And Art Are Not In Love Quotes

I don’t think doing a difficult thing and being happy are mutually exclusive, Gabriel. I think you could both have some of the things you want, if you’re brave enough to ask for them.

Nobody else is ever going to care as much as you do about the things that you want, Gwendoline. So it's up to you - you can put them aside forever, if you can live with that, or you can put on your big-girl girdle and demand more for yourself.

I don't even like him,' Gwen said eventually, and Bridget laughed quietly. 'He grows on you.' 'Like mould,' said Gwen. 'Like one of those plants that strangles trees.

I'm not like you, Arthur. You do what you like, and kiss who you like, and damn the consequences.’ ‘I am living with the consequences right now,’ Arthur said bitterly. 'I am drinking juice with the consequences.

To be truly brave, first you must be afraid. And to be afraid, you must have something you cannot bear to lose.

Her father sighed, rubbing at his beard. "The problem with compromise,' he said eventually, 'is that, often, everybody loses. You sit on the fence for so long that you discover you've built a kingdom on it.

Begone, tiny demon,” he hissed over his shoulder. The cat blinked back at him, then sloped off in the opposite direction as the guards let Arthur inside.

Not everybody lives for the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of the little black and white squares

Definitely' Arthur said. 'Absolutely. He's not – you know. He barely talks. He reads books.' It was true; Gabriel was not his usual type, and he needed to be practical. It would be one thing to risk his neck for some confident, dashing prince with muscled thighs and witty repartee to truly die for, but Gabriel was quiet, and strange, and ultimately just- not worth the hassle. Even if he was nice to birds.

That's the spirit. Now, come on. Chin up, shoulders back; let's go and show them a new England.

You moon, I’m afraid. But she must find it endearing. Can’t say I understand the appeal. I like my men emotionally repressed and unavailable.

she was born from magic, and to magic she returned

You know fathers aren't always right just by virtue of being fathers.

The thing is,' Gwen said, muffled again against her dress, 'I think I could love a man. I just...haven't. I don't notice many people in that way. And if I could love a man, then surely I should try. It would make everything so much easier.' 'You could,' said Arthur. 'You could fall in love with a man, and know that you once liked Bridget, and neither of those things would change the other. They would both be true. But right now you do like Bridget. So I don't think you should settle for a life that denies that particular truth.

God, Gwen thought wistfully. I hope she stabs me.

If you wanted to come and find me, I've actually been pretty stationary. You know. Nearly dying.

I wouldn’t mind, you know. If you did harbor expectations. In fact, I’d do my very best to exceed them.

Shame. That was the feeling. She felt flooded with it, like it was curdling the blood in her veins and taking root in the pit of her stomach. This is what comes of wanting things.

Oh,” Arthur said, crumpling back into his seat and sighing. “Right. Well. I mean. What do you know exactly? Because to be frank, Gwen, I feel like I hardly know. And I’m somewhat involved

Walk like you don’t care where your limbs are,’ Agnes said, doing a much better job of it than Gwen. ‘As if it’s of no consequence to you where they end up. Like this. See? Swing them about. And you should act, at all times, as if your crotch is a burden.’ ‘Now hang on,’ said Arthur. ‘I’m a man, and my crotch isn’t a burden.’ ‘Maybe not to you,’ said Gwen. ‘But it’s a burden on the rest of humanity.

I'm crying because I was just in a bloody battle. It was awful, I hated every second of it and I would not recommend it to a friend. And, yes I supposed I'm also crying because I love you and I'm so pleased to see you.

I enjoy it. It's a lot of hard work for very little glory, but you can find joy even in the worst and the most mundane parts of it, if you approach them with the right attitude and surround yourself with good people. It's hard to explain...

Over the years, Gwen had found there were two kinds of men. Men who made eating a woman an art form because they were average—or barely—in size so they had to compensate. And men who were hung like horses but felt that nine-incher somehow exempted them from one of her favorite forms of entertainment. Yet somehow that Irish luck that had kept Gwen alive all these years deigned to reward on her the highest blessing a woman could hope for. A well-hung man who loved to give his woman head.

You make a good point,' Arthur said diplomatically. Unfortunately, I'm not actually in the market for good points, so--shut up and put your mustache on.' ... 'I made you a false mustache!' Arthur said, outraged. 'I did crafts for you! The least you can do is act grateful.' 'Thank you for my cat-hair mustache,' Gwen said, rolling her eyes. 'It's truly disgusting. I hope you washed it first.' Arthur winked at her in a way he probably imagined was roguish and charming. 'I can guarantee you that I did not.

He hates everybody. Equal-opportunity loathing. I'll fetch him, and we can remind him that you're the keeper of the snacks.

Well. You’re built for reading,” Arthur said, his words punctuated by the sound of blade against blade. “Reading—in a darkened room—until covered in a fine layer of dust.

Weren't you meant to be the distraction?' Sindy panted. 'Er. Yes. But I got--distracted.

If I'd bumped into your father, I'd be talking to him about tax evasion.

I didn’t say I was going to bed,” Arthur said petulantly. “I said I was leaving. If you assumed I was going to bed, that just demonstrates your utter lack of imagination.

To be afraid you must have something you cannot bear to lose.

I don’t think doing a difficult thing and being happy are mutually exclusive, Gabriel. I think you could both<\i> have some of the things you want, if you’re brave enough to ask for them.

Gabriel said nothing, his face stricken. In the lamplight, he looked strangely young - not like a future king at all, just a boy, being swallowed whole by the dust and the darkness and the thousands of words of history closing in all around him.

He's quite short.'. 'So are you, ' snapped Gwen. 'I'm taller than you,' Authur said, his voice squeaking a little in indignation. "You're the same height as me, ' Gwen hissed. ' Now shut up " "You are freakishly tall for a woman,' muttered Arthur.

Bridget responded by raising her eyebrows and letting the end of the sword make gentle contact with Gwen’s chin, lifting it ever so slightly as Gwen met Bridget’s gaze and tried to hold back a smile. “Stay down, and I’ll show you how to get back up again.

She couldn't tell which was winning out - her utter devastation at Gabriel's lack of support, at the way he'd made her feel so monstrous, of the suspicion that she was monstrous; that is was somehow a dishonorable thing to look at Bridget the way she did, and tha tGabriel was right to have reacted with revulsion. She wanted to scrub it all out. She wanted to back everything she had said and go back to a time when she was still just the sister that Gabriel knew and loved, not this stranger he had looked at with such disappointment.

The blonde was staring at herself in the mirror, taking on a thoughtful, reflective tone. “Well, it isn’t easy. And his mood changes in an instant. But he collects different girls for different flavors – so one girl doesn’t have to be everybody and everything.” “Oh.” I splashed water on my face and stared for a moment at the mask in the mirror. “You’re just his type, totally. With all the tattoos, you are utterly monstrous, if you don’t mind my saying so. Punk-Goth gone mad.” She swung around to take a close, direct look. “I never saw the point of tattoos, mind you, just fad and fashion. But,” she focused on me, stared, grinned, and rolled her eyes. “My God, darling, you really are perfect! How could you do that to yourself?” She licked her lips. “I think you will be a success. As I said, Sergei loves tattoos. He’s totally into the weird and the monstrous. He adores freaks – and kid, you are about as freakish as they come.” “You think so.” I turned my mask towards her and gave her an extra big smile – I was even more grotesque, Martine told me, when I smiled. “Oh, Gwen, how totally utterly horrible!” she declared and then kissed me to console me for having become a monster. As I grinned at Sergei’s girl, the metal rings in my ears clanked against each other. I could feel the large ring nose, warm, smooth steel, against my curled upper lip. “Yes, you look like a masterpiece of self-loathing.” “It’s called body art,” I said, “It’s a statement.” “A statement?” “Absolutely,” I hiccupped. Everything was fuzzy; I forced myself to focus. “Whatever it is, you’ll be a big success. Sergei collects waifs who suffer from extreme self-hatred. Self-destructive and self-hating girls are one of his hobbies. You can do so much with them.

Her father sighed, rubbing at his beard. ‘The problem with compromise,' he said eventually, 'is that, often, everybody loses. You sit on the fence for so long that you discover you've built a kingdom on it.

They’re alive,” said Sidney. Arthur gave him a weak thumbs-up. “Although … front lines.” Arthur flipped his hand to give the appropriate thumbs-down.

Summer wasn’t over—but whatever she’d had with Bridget already was.

being swallowed whole by the dust and the darkness and the thousands of words of history closing in all around him

the epic highs and lows of the little black and white squares,

I want... More than that, from my life. I've been fighting for that for a very long time, I've had to bruise and break myself and bleed for it,so what you're offering... I'm sorry. I care about you. But it's not enough for me.

Studying for what?” They were slowing down, and Arthur didn’t know who had initiated it. He was usually a fastidiously fast walker; Sidney was forever complaining about it. “Um. Everything? My future,” Gabriel said. Arthur’s instinct was to laugh, but he managed to keep himself in check. “You’re studying for life? For your life? Is there a—is there a how-to guide for monarchs? Tips and tricks for subjugating the masses? Prevent a revolt in ten easy steps?

Arthur Pendragon, purportedly Arthur’s relative many times removed, was such a fixture of his father’s lectures that if he’d fallen through time and encountered the man, Arthur’s primary inclination would have been to kick him right in his damned round table.

Where do you go? When you go … out?” “Oh, you know. Dens of ill repute. Gambling houses. Unregulated cockfights.” Gwen just looked at him over the rim of her glass. “I don’t know, usually … inns, taverns. The gutters outside inns and taverns. So far, Sidney is very disappointed by what your fine city has to offer—

No, I didn’t,” said Gwen. “I don’t really go into the city. It doesn’t surprise me though. I have four cousins named Lancelot. Two Percivals. Court is rife with noble ladies called Morgan, or Morgana.

What are you doing?” Gwen demanded. “Crimes,” said Arthur, at the exact same time that both Agnes and Sidney said, “Nothing.

She’s awful, Sid. I’ve never seen somebody so caught up in their own majesty. She was five years old and already stomping about giving me orders, and running off to my father to tell tales on me. When we got older she started writing all these nasty little things in her diary about me, and hiding it under a tree like some sort of deranged squirrel when she thought I wasn’t looking.

She had often wondered if her parents had considered committing wholly to the bit and calling her Guinevere to match him, but had chickened out just in time and chosen Gwendoline instead, the uncomfortable legacy of the former’s extramarital affairs with roguish knights staying their hands.

He’s not bad-looking,” Sidney observed as they walked together by unspoken agreement back in the direction of their chambers. “And I mean, you love a terrible idea. This one could be your worst yet.

I am good, though,” Arthur said, winking at Gabriel, who looked thunderstruck and quickly turned back to face the arena. “Don’t wink at him,” Gwen said. “The point is to make it seem like we’re getting together, not that this is some kind of … mildly incestuous free-for-all.

But that wasn’t his inheritance. Royal sons meant promise—they carried the hope and glory of their lineage, however reluctantly; royal daughters were born to be promised to somebody else.

He's quite short.'. 'So are you, ' snapped Gwen. 'I'm taller than you,' Authur said, his voice squeaking a little in indignation. 'You're the same height as me,' Gwen hissed. 'Now shut up' 'You are freakishly tall for a woman,' muttered Arthur.

Tell me it was a one-time thing.' 'Definitely,' Arthur said. 'Absolutely. He's not--you know. He barely talks. He reads books

Ah. Terrible when they involve the wives.

That's not a tune. That's the sound of retching.

Please bring your own swords, maces, and morning-stars as none will be provided.

How would I know?' Sidney grunted as he pulled his tunic over his head. 'Isn't it your job to know things?' 'No. It's my job to keep you alive. And you are alive aren't you?' 'Probably,' Arthur said.

Nobody else is ever going to care as much as you do about the things that you want.

I'm going to duel Sidney, actually.' 'No, you're not,' said Sidney. ' Sidney is going to lean against this wall here and have a nap.

Why don't you come over here,' Gwen said sweetly, 'so I can pit you like an olive?

How are you supposed to enjoy illicit affairs and birthday debauchery under these conditions?

It's a bloody letter. It's impossible to have the last word, because he can just send one right back. You'll go on forever and ever trying to one-up each other until one of you dies.

No, I don't think he'd have he patience or the endurance to fake all of this. They're so earnest.

What part of my life is real, at the moment? I'm betrothed to a man I'm not the least bit attracted to, and I know he feels the same about me. But I've been thinking and, Gabe, if we might all be stabbed in our own beds at any moment.

Was just checking to make sure that you're still breathing.' 'I regret to inform you: yes.

Siege supplies in the Battle of Badon, 501. Scintillating stuff.

You—you got your lance wet, didn’t you?

What did you do?” “Kissed him,” Arthur said matter-of-factly. “In the bird shed.” “Shit,” said Sidney. “Is that some sort of slang for something I don’t want to know about?” “No, it was a literal—it was a shed full of birds.

I actually thought when I came here that the castle doctor—well, I thought he’d probably know more than my doctor at home. But he said what they all say. It can’t be as bad as all that, it’s normal, and something about ladies and a low threshold for pain—and then a lot of blustering noises until I … until I go away.

The problem with compromise is that... you sit on the fence for so long that you discover you've built a kingdom on it.

Uh-oh,” said Sidney, pulling up a chair and sitting down heavily next to him. “What did you do?” “Kissed him,” Arthur said matter-of-factly. “In the bird shed.” “Shit,” said Sidney. “Is that some sort of slang for something I don’t want to know about?” “No, it was a literal—it was a shed full of birds.

She’s protecting you. Because you’re … you don’t like women?” He said it slowly, as if the pieces were only coming together in his mind as he did. “I like them just fine,” Arthur said. “For strictly hands-free activities. Going to concerts. Book clubs. Turns about the hall.

repressed

Do you have any plan for what comes next?” Bridget asked, looking down at Gwen’s hands, which were still pressed against her collarbone. “Or did the forethought start and end at pushing?” “Shut up,” Gwen said, surprising both of them. “I’m going to kiss you.” “All right,” Bridget said. “Carry on, then.

It’s not a dream,” Gwen said. “Trust me. In the dream, you’re always on a unicorn.

Behold, kissing hath recently taken place betwixt this lusty knight and this passing good woman.

Oh,” Arthur said, crumpling back into his seat and sighing. “Right. Well. I mean. What do you know, exactly? Because to be frank, Gwen, I feel like I hardly know. And I’m somewhat involved.

And you should act, at all times, as if your crotch is a burden.” “Now hang on,” said Arthur. “I’m a man, and my crotch isn’t a burden.” “Maybe not to you,” said Gwen. “But it’s a burden on the rest of humanity.

There are ways to do both, you know. To be king and also have what you want. And besides, has it never occurred to you that being king means you’ll have the power to change things?

Come on. You must have some idea about how you’d like to live your life. Very deep down, somewhere under about sixty layers of ink and parchment, you must have a beating heart.

And?” “It’s stupid.” “I’ll be the judge of that. I’m very familiar with stupidity.

and Arthur was amazed that kissing could feel like that, like both a blessing and a comfort, instead of like the inevitable meeting of two people who were reaching desperately for something they couldn’t quite grasp.

It doesn’t matter what you actually said,” Arthur said, raising his voice more than he had intended. “Jesus, Gabriel—why are you punishing her for who she is because you’re scared of who you might be?

You wielded Excalibur.” Bridget looked guiltily down at the sword in her hand. “Not on purpose. Just had to—borrow it.” “You know, that’s the number-one reason people pull swords out of stones,” Gwen said, laughing through her tears.

To be truly brave, first you must be afraid—and to be afraid, you must have something you cannot bear to lose.

Oh. Didn’t he want to use a Tai name?” “They don’t have family names in Sukhothai. I think he chose Leclair from a book.” “Which one?” “The Big Book of Vaguely French-Sounding Names,” Bridget said seriously, making Gwen snort with laughter.

Christ,” said Sidney. “Is that all it takes to knock some sense into a person? I need a head injury.” “You are a head injury.

I said no to giving up my whole life to wait around for moments with you, whenever you could spare them. That’s not who I am, and it’s not what I want, and I think that, given some time, you’ll realize that it isn’t what you want either.