Kingmaker Quotes

Two people can only live as one when each is prepared to give and receive trust and understanding. Above that lies respect. Without respect for how the other feels, no marriage is worthwhile.

Change has to come for life to struggle forward.

Happiness is a strange, frightening, fragile feeling when you're not used to it.

Have I cheated death again? Hades must be allergic to me.

Very well. What do you do as a mercenary?” “I specialize in usurping thrones. They call me the kingmaker.” Bragging now?

We had so many dreams as children. Where do they go when we grow? Are they swallowed up by the mundane things of everyday life? Or do we lose them, leave them behind us in the dust, for new children to find and take up?

Now that that's settled, you're coming with me." "Never in a billion suns. Not even if Zeus showed up as a swan and tried to peck me in your direction. I wouldn't go with you even if my other option was Hades dragging me to the Underworld for an eternal threesome with Persephone.

I conquered a kingdom and found a treasure." His voice turns gravelly, low. "I won't let you go. Not now. Not ever.

The ice inside me melts. Suddenly, I'm burning up and terrified, scared I'll be too weak to resist. Scratch that - I'm petrified I've already given in.

In this office we do not have problems. We have interesting developments. We have challenges. If we absolute must we may, on occasion, have a slight difficulty. But under no circumstances whatsoever do we have problems.

People talk about fight or flight? That's nonsense. It's fight and flight.

Be a Kingmaker, Not Just a King.

My soul is in your hands."  "Your soul is safe in my hands and in my heart.

The first rule of being a mercenary? Find out what the client wants, then convince him that, a) you can get it for him, and, b) you're the ONLY one who can get it for him. Second rule? Lie. Often. The truth rarely serves you well in this business -Cadeon Woede, mercenary, second in line to the throne of the rage demons, a.k.a. Cade the Kingmaker

You’re the shield, and I’m the sword.

Loyaute me lie - Loyalty Binds Me

I've known all sorts of fear - fear of pain, fear of discovery, fear of capture. This is new. This is the kind of fear that teaches me the difference between trying to stay alive, and wanting to live.

I love you like a man insane.

Let go,” I demand. “No.” My eyebrows snap together. “Why not?” “Because your gut reaction is always to punch, and I don’t like being tickled.” Tickled? Tickled! Indignation swamps me. I’ll show him a tickle.

I feel no peace, I feel nothing. I think I will feel nothing forever.

It never leaves, not with someone we love. Their presence burns too vivid in our memories. Happen that is as it should be, for otherwise we would too easy forget.

I'll have no songs about how brave you died, Kingmaker. There's tens o'thousands dead on your account.

I will never let you go, and I will never leave you. I would defy creatures, and Gods, and terrible, brutal queens to keep you safe and by my side. I would move Mount Olympus itself to hold you in my arms and feel your heart beat against mine. You are my soul, and yes, I will fight for you and protect you until my dying breath.

For some reason, the strength and deadliness he keeps so easily leashed make him the most compelling man I've ever met. I envy his self-control.

How can people be so blind?” I shrug. “Don’t overestimate the masses. They love you until they hate you. They hate you until they love you.

That's what it comes down to for everyone. How much use we can be.

When a crumbling house reaches a certain point, there’s no fixing it. You tear it down. You clear the rubble, and then you build something better.

I was on the way to becoming a duchess, and I had made the Kingmaker angry. What more could a child of seven have accomplished in one day?

Temporary homecomings are bittersweet. Sometimes it's better not to go back at all than to have to leave again.

I will always come back to you.” …I lean forward and kiss him because he’s my hunger and my food, my thirst and my water, my air and my every breath.

She has a smile that grows slowly and then shines, like an angel’s smile.

She talks big, but she’s made of custard.” “Fluffy and full of cream?” Kato wiggles blond eyebrows at me. Carver grins. “Think she’s sweet, too?” My eyes spit fire. “Bite me. You’ll find out.

I was taught to be queen by Margaret of Anjou, and perhaps I have taught you how to be queen in turn. This is fortune’s wheel indeed." With my forefinger I draw a circle in the air, the sign of fortune’s wheel. "You can go very high and you can sink very low, but you can rarely turn the wheel at your own bidding.

Maybe I'll trust him to fight my monsters while I sleep. Maybe I don't have a choice. His voice is fierce in my ear. "You're mine now, Cat. Don't you dare die on me.

Never promise things you can't deliver," I whisper. "I can try," he whispers back, and I hate myself because I smile.

I don’t want to think about anything in my real life. That’s what books are for. To take you away . . .

I have seen statues that would look stodgy beside her, I have seen painted Madonnas whose features would be coarse beside her pale luminous loveliness.

Who are you to decide what needs to be done? That's subjective by nature. No two people think alike." "Someone has to decide. Without, rulers, there's chaos.

The warlord pierces me with a hard stare. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way." "Or no way, " I retort.

Make a decision, and don't turn back." "What if it's wrong?" "I don't know." He winks at me over his shoulder. "It's never happened.

My mother's story has no end. Her life was interrupted mid-sentence -a dangling participle. An infinite etcetera of dots, but no period.

I'll show these people how a curtsy is done, even if I am wearing soggy boots and a bloody pair of pants. Literally. There's blood on them, and I can't get it out, no matter how hard I scrub. At least it's not mine.

Satisfaction is the enemy of success. I’ll be proud of myself when I’ve got the whole damn world at my feet.

I want him everywhere. I burn for him in places he hasn't even touched.

I dread this power he has over me. It makes me want to tell him all my secrets and see if he still wants me.

Trial by fire. It forges a heart of iron. And sets it alight.

I don’t know why it’s not universally acknowledged that looking back is a terrible idea. It only makes going forward that much harder.

Human rights and wrongs are not determined by Justice, but by Might. Disguise it as you may, the naked sword is still king-maker and king-breaker, as of yore. All other theories are lies and — lures

You'll still be my light in the dark, Cat. Even if you fall.

Griffin leans closer, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive rumble only I can hear. "There are things I could boast about, but I'd rather show than tell.

His tongue swirls against my skin, and I gasp. His voice rough with passion, he rasps, "You're living fire. I burn.

Every choice sets the table. Sooner or later, we all sit down to a banquet of consequences

I’m jealous,” I say, seizing her arm and pulling her close. “Any time anyone looks at you, or speaks to you, I’m jealous. I want all your minutes, and all your words. I want all of you, all the time.

I turn around from the window and for the first time I see him... It is Richard, smiling at my surprise. I run to him, without thinking what I am doing. I run to the first friendly face that I have seen since Christmas, and in a moment I am in his arms and he is holding me tightly and kissing my face, my closed eyes, my smiling mouth, kissing me till I am breathless and have to pull away from him.

Hades, Hera, and Hestia!" Flynn curses, pointing up. "What in the Underworld is that?" "A She-Dragon." Everyone turns to me, and as much as I love having four handsome men gape at me in stupefaction, right now, I could do without.

Richard looks into my eyes and once again I know us for the children that we were, who had to make our own destiny in a world we could not understand.

Knowing you’re loved, truly loved, by at least one person makes all the difference in the world.

Griffin’s eyes capture mine. He holds my face in his hands. “You. Belong. With. Me.

I want you. I need you. For as many hours as possible, I don't want to think about anything but you.

Unless they're utterly heartless, people put a certain value on human life. It keeps us from killing each other off for no reason. But for leaders like you and me, a moral high ground is too absolute. There are choices to be made.

And – I think you know, don’t you? – that I love you, Anne.’ I feel as if I have been living in a loveless world for too long. The last tender face I saw was my father’s when he sailed for England. ‘You do? Truly?’ ‘I do.’ He rises to his feet and pulls me up to stand beside him. My chin comes to his shoulder, we are both dainty, long-limbed, coltish: well-matched. I turn my face into his jacket. ‘Will you marry me?’ he whispers. ‘Yes,’ I say.

If a kiss has a color, this one is the muted shades of the sky overhead, a ménage à trois of midnight and indigo and moonshine silver. If a kiss has a sound, this one is the concert of our breaths and sighs and moans. If a kiss has a taste, it tastes like this. Hunger flavored with yearning and spiced with desperation.

Why be one thing when you can be everything?

The man with the gray eyes is a born leader, and only an idiot would mistake him for anything else.

Kato looks ill. “I… It… Me…” He stares at the massive snake. “Big.” I squeeze his arm. “Don’t worry. You’ll speak in complete sentences again soon.

A crushed spark never ignites,” I tell him. “That’s not how you fan the flame.

When Gods dabble in the affairs of men, anything can happen.

I claim you for my very own. With my blood. With my bone. With my heart. With my soul. You are mine. Forever. In this world, and in the next

Power is not only in what we do, but in what we don’t do,” Anna says calmly.

You are my heart. Even if you are a broken heart

I make a show of smoothing down my hair – a lost cause at this point. “Ah, that. It’s getting to the stage where it deserved a name. The Knotted Nest? The Twisted Tresses?” “What about the Terrible Tangle?” I nod. “That has serious possibilities.” “The Matted Mess?” he suggests.

I am caught. You caught me. Not the other way around. From the very first day. And from the very first day, I would have done anything for you—except let you go. I couldn’t. Not when deep down, I knew we were meant to be like this. To love like this.

What's going on? Not much. My mother's falling to pieces, my sister is a selfish bitch and my father's committing slow suicide for sake of his kingdom. That's all.

The Innocent Mage is come , and we stand at the beginning of the end of everything

The minute you cease being afraid of yourself, there’s nothing in this world that can stop you.

Butterflies tickle my insides. “You either have an Olympian-sized sense of self-importance, or you’re overcompensating for a lack of confidence.

Who’s arguing now?” “Cat…” I smile innocently. It’s hard not to laugh. “Yes, Your Growliness?” He growls.

It’s time to be the person you were meant to be, Cat. You don’t just have to make decisions and stand by them now. You have to live with them.

We were friends before.” Sort of. We never tried to kill each other.

Character, past, and environment all affect the choices we make. The trick is choosing a path and following it. Make a decision, and don’t turn back.

When you can manipulate reality, life is a game. I know this game. I play it all the time. I’ve just never played it with anyone else.

It’s funny how even the simplest words can cut if they’re said sharply enough.

They think they know Leo Gallo. Anna is the only person who actually does.

She should know that you belong to me, little kitten,” he says softly. “That means she has no right to fuck with you. Because when she fucks with you, she fucks with me.

My mother was my first country. The first place I ever lived.” – “lands” by Nayyirah Waheed, Poet & Activist

try to smile back but feel my expression twist into a dash of murderous, a pinch of maniacal, and a sprinkle of watch your back. Oops.

No one’s ever called me anything special before, except Thanos, and I’m not sure “little monster” counts.

You’re intelligent, brave, skilled, and lethal. You’ve got Poseidon and Hades looking out for you. I don’t believe you’ll die young, and I don’t believe they’d let you. And even if they’re not paying attention, then I am. I won’t let you. I told you I was keeping you. I meant it.

I’m… “ I stop, at a loss. Griffin lifts his eyebrows. “Inarticulate at the moment?” Scowling, I thwack him in the chest. “Overwrought?” he supplies, his mouth quirking up. I thwack him again. “Highly emotional?” Thwack. Thwack. “Apparently weak, because none of that hurt at all.

Yet he’s beautiful. So fucking beautiful. He’s beautiful when he’s sad and when he’s scared. When he’s happy or when he’s angry. He’s a diamond with a hundred facets. Each one is pure and perfect to me.

I would carry myself with much more dignity than her. I wouldn't whisper with the king and demean myself as she did. I wouldn't send out dishes and wave to people like she did. I wouldn't trail all my brothers and sisters into court like she did. I would be much more reserved and cold. I wouldn't smile at anyone, I wouldn't bow to anyone. I would be a true queen, a queen of ice, without family or friends.

I sit on the bed and kick off my shoes, and he kneels before me and takes the riding boots, holding one open for my bare foot. I hesitate; it is such an intimate gesture between a young woman and a man. His smiling upward glance tells me that he understands my hesitation but is ignoring it. I point my toe and he holds the boot, I slide my foot in and he pulls the boot over my calf. He takes the soft leather ties and fastens the boot, at my ankle, then at my calf, and then just below my knee. He looks up at me, his hand gently on my toe. I can feel the warmth of his hand through the soft leather. I imagine my toes curling in pleasure at his touch. ‘Anne, will you marry me?’ he asks simply, as he kneels before me.

Dissent is the highest form of patriotism,” I quote. “I love this country too much to settle for the lies written in our history books. I love the constitution too much not to hold the men who wrote it accountable for the truth of its principles.

Samuel became even more interested in politics than his father had been, served the Republican Party tirelessly as a king-maker, caused that party to nominate men who would whirl like dervishes, bawl fluent Babylonian, and order the militia to fire into crowds whenever a poor man seemed on the point of suggesting that he and a Rosewater were equal in the eyes of the law.

I swallow, thinking I might pity myself a little bit right now, too. “He abducted me. He threatened my friends. He kept me tied to him with a magic rope. I couldn’t even pee by myself. He’s awful.” “You’ll get over it.” Jocasta cheerfully throws my own words back at me. “See you at dinner.

I thought you of all people would understand.” “Understand what? Being an idiot?” That seems to surprise him enough to add something new to his countenance. A trace of humor softens the stark lines of his face. “No.” A wry smile just barely curves his lips. “Maybe.” “I am an expert idiot,” I say. “I practice all the time.

Say yes,’ he whispers. ‘Marry me.’ I hesitate. I open my eyes. ‘You will get my fortune,’ I remark. ‘When I marry you, everything I have becomes yours. Just as George has everything that belongs to Isabel.’ ‘That’s why you can trust me to win it for you,’ he says simply. ‘When your interests and mine are the same, you can be certain that I will care for you as for myself. You will be my own. You will find that I care for my own.’ ‘You will be true to me?’ ‘Loyalty is my motto. When I give my word, you can trust me.

The two women look at each other and in both faces there is a glimpse of the girls that they were. A little smile warms Margaret’s face and Jacquetta’s eyes are filled with love. It is as if the years are no more than the mists of Barnet or the snows at Towton: they are gone, it is hard to believe they were ever there. Margaret puts out her hand, not to touch her friend but to make a gesture, a secret shared gesture, and, as we watch, Jacquetta mirrors the movement. Eyes fixed on each other they both raise their index finger and trace a circle in the air – that’s all they do. Then they smile to each other as if life itself is a joke, a jest that means nothing and a wise woman can laugh at it; then, without a word, Margaret passes silently into the darkness of the tower. "What was that?" Isabel exclaims. "It was the sign for the wheel of fortune," I whisper. ‘The wheel of fortune which put Margaret of Anjou on the throne of England, heiress to the kingdoms of Europe, and then threw her down to this. Jacquetta warned her of this long ago – they knew. The two of them knew long ago that fortune throws you up to greatness and down to disaster and all you can do is endure.

He’s barely finished himself inside me when my release hits. My thighs tense. The breath stalls in my lungs, and then I kick back my head and let out the loudest, throatiest, and most breathless moan in the history of all history, going boneless in a blissful rush. “Gods, I missed you,” Griffin rasps, holding me as I throb around him. The high-impact tremors fade into sweet, lingering aftershocks. I look up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. My lips part, but no words come out. Even the drag of frosty air over my kiss-swollen lips is almost too sensual to bear. Griffin quirks a dark eyebrow, looking smug. “That was easy.” I grin, falling in love with him all over again. “Then do it again.

As he catches my eye he beams at me, his dark face bright with affection. Anyone can see it who cares to look at him, he is hopelessly indiscreet. He puts his hand to his heart as if swearing fidelity to me. I look to left and right, thank God no-one is looking, they are all getting on their horses and George the duke is shouting for the guard. Recklessly, Richard stands there, his hand on his heart, looking at me as if he wants the world to know that he loves me. He loves me. I shake my head as if reproving him, and I look down at my hands on the reins. I look up again and he is still fixing his gaze on me, his hand still on his heart. I know I should look away, I know I should pretend to feel nothing but disdain – this is how the ladies in the troubadour poems behave. But I am a girl, and I am lonely and alone, and this is a handsome young man who has asked how he may serve me and now stands before me with his hand on his heart and his eyes laughing at me. One of the guard stumbled while mounting his horse and his horse shied, knocking the nearby horseman. Everyone is looking that way, and the king puts his arm around his wife. I snatch off my glove and, in one swift gesture, I throw it towards Richard. He catches it out of the air and tucks it in the breast of his jacket. Nobody has seen it. Nobody knows. The guardsman steadies his horse, mounts it, nods his apology to his captain, and the royal family turn and wave to us. Richard looks at me, buttoning the front of his jacket, and smiles at me warmly, assuredly. He has my glove, my favour.