Shelby Quotes

A university is just a group of buildings gathered around a library.

I abhor the idea of a perfect world. It would bore me to tears.

If you two were going to be that obvious about it, why didn't you guys come down in your Team Daniel and Team Miles T-shirts?" "We should order those," Shelby said. "Mine's in the laundry," Arriane said.

I loved her. Despite everything. Despite the lies, the betrayal, the hurt. Despite the Archbishop and Morgane le Blanc. Despite my own brothers. I don't know if she returned that love, and I didn't care. If she was destined to burn in Hell, I would burn with her.

I was no one's sacrifice. Not then. Not now. Not ever.

There are some things that can't be changed with words. Some things have to be seen. They have to be felt.

Humans. For the most part, you are dull and blundering. But occasionally, you can be remarkably bright creatures.

Why the fuck is everyone in this kingdom trying to murder my wife?

Love makes fools of us all, darling.

I leaned back, studying her as she finished my bun. A bit of icing covered her lip. Her nose was still red from the cold, her hair wild and windblown. My little heathen.

What you are now is not what you’ve always been, nor is it what you always will be. You are a snake. Shed your skin if it no longer serves you. Transform into something different. Something better.

Our lives reflect our hearts.

Death couldn't take him away from me. He was me. Our souls were bound.

Suddenly, Shelby started, at the same time that we heard Cole's voice across the backyard: "Clear off, you psychotic bitch!" She slid off into the darkness as the back door slammed. "Thanks, Cole," I said. "That was incredibly subtle." "That," replied Cole, "is one of my finest traits.

Maybe men can learn a thing or two from women.

Do not urge me to leave you or turn back from you.’” He trailed his fingers down my arm in slow, torturous strokes. My head fell back on his shoulder, my eyes fluttering closed, as his lips continued to move against my neck. “‘Where you go, I will go. Where you stay, I will stay.

Why can humans not use their millions of words to simply tell one another what they desire?

Where you go, I will go. Where you stay, I will stay.

Tova has always felt more than a bit of empathy for the sharks, with their never-ending laps around the tank. She understands what it means to never be able to stop moving, lest you find yourself unable to breathe.

I like you, Ansel, but this had better be something good. Emilie and Alexandre just had a moment, and I swear if they don't kiss soon, I will literally die.

You're to be my wife." Catching up to her in two strides, I reached out to grab her arm, but stopped short of touching her. "That means you'll obey me." "Does it?" She raised her brows, still grinning. " I suppose that means you'll honor and protect me, then? If we're adhering to the dusty old roles of your patriarchy?" I shortened my pace to match hers. "Yes." She clapped her hands together. "Excellent. At least this will be entertaining. I have many enemies.

As a general rule, I like holes. A hole at the top of my tank gives me freedom. But I do not like the hole in her heart. She only has one, not three, like me. Tova’s heart. I will do everything I can to help her fill it.

Wicked are the ways of women—and especially a witch. Their guile knows no bounds.

She was burning, Reid. I don't know how, but she took away that witch's pain. She gave it to herself.” He exhaled heavily. “That's why I didn't tell you. Because even though I knew Lou was a witch, I knew she wasn't evil. She burned at the stake once. She doesn't deserve to do it twice.

Such a love was not something of just the heart and mind. It wasn't something to be felt and eventually forgotten, to be touched without it in return touching you. No . . . this love was something else. Something irrevocable. It was something of the soul.

I never said it was your god. Your god hates women. We were an afterthought.

If there was a God, he or she had a shit sense of humor.

when a person brings you more hurt than happiness, you’re allowed to let them go.

What's your favorite color?” “Blue.” She rolled her eyes. “Boring. Mine's gold-or turquoise. Or emerald.” “Why doesn't that surprise me?” “Because you aren't as stupid as you look.” I didn't know whether to be insulted or flattered. She didn't give me time to decide.

Un malheur ne vient jamais seul. Misfortune never arrives alone. —French proverb

I-I've never seen anyone savor anything the way you do everything. You make me feel alive. Just being in your presence - it's addictive. You're addictive. It doesn't matter you're a witch. The way you see the world . . . I want to see it that way too. I want to be with you always, Lou. I never want to be parted from you again.

Idiocy is oft mistaken for sentimentality.

Secrets are everywhere. Some humans are crammed full of them. How do they not explode? It seems to be a hallmark of the human species: abysmal communication skills.

Ask me no questions, mon amour , and I shall tell you no lies.

Hope isn’t the sickness. It’s the cure.

The church is like a swimming pool. Most of the noise comes from the shallow end.

The world didn’t end in a scream. It ended in a gasp. A single, startled exhalation. And then— Nothing. Nothing but silence.

I've been thinking," he said finally. "A dangerous pastime.

That is love, to give away everything, to sacrifice everything, without the slightest desire to get anything in return. —Albert Camus

Death couldn’t take him away from me. He was me. Our souls were bound. Even if he didn’t want me, even if I cursed his name, we were one.

Everyone's a whore, Grace. We just sell different parts of ourselves.

There was only one way such a story could end -a stake and a match.

Smart cookie. I am smart, but I am not a snack object dispensed from a packaged food machine. What a preposterous thing to say.

Ran into the wrong end of a knife.

But I can't see how anybody who drives a '68 Shelby could be all bad.

God is not a Christian, God is not a Jew, or a Muslim, or a Hindu, or a Buddhist. All of those are human systems which human beings have created to try to help us walk into the mystery of God. I honor my tradition, I walk through my tradition, but I don't think my tradition defines God, I think it only points me to God.

Use the prise de fer!" Shelby called. "Lilith sucks at the prise de fer. Correction: Lilith sucks at everything, but especially the prise de fer.

He tends to go for girls who are-Shelby, honey? Put your hands over your ears for just a sec.” Back into the phone he said, “He likes the real slutty ones. Ow!” he yelled when he received a whop to the back of the head.

You don’t get to leave me. Do you understand?” Cupping my face, he wrenched me backward and kissed me hard. His voice was fierce. His eyes were fiercer. They burned into mine, angry and anguished and afraid. “You don’t get to do this alone. If you retreat into your mind—into your magic—I’ll follow you, Lou.” He shook me slightly, tears glistening in those frightened eyes. “I’ll follow you into that darkness, and I’ll bring you back. Do you hear me? Where you go, I will go.

Some trees aren’t meant to sprout tender new branches, but to stand stoically on the forest floor, silently decaying.

Hello, Chass.” Blood roared in my ears. “Hello, wife.

I can’t begin to tell you the things I discovered while I was looking for something else.

What do you think I’m trying to do? Not my fault I was dealt a shitty hand.” “No, the deal is never anyone’s fault. But you control the way you play.

Fear was inevitable. We all made our choices, and we all suffered our consequences. We all felt fear. The trick was learning to live with that fear, to continue forward in spite of it.

Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.

Molly slapped the lid back down then pushed past Luce into the foyer stumbling over Shelby in her path. “Excuse you ” they said gruffly at the same time eyeing each other suspiciously. “Oh good. ” Gabbe leaned in to give Luce a hug. “Molly'’s made a friend.”

Sometimes it hurts to remember the dead as who they were, rather than who we wanted them to be.

I’d lied when I’d said I’d made my choice. In truth, there’d been no choice at all. There never had been. I loved her. And if I had to run, hide, and fight for that love, I would. For the rest of my life, I would.

If this woman is to be my wife,” he said, swallowing hard, “you will not touch her again.

You can't fix someone who is determined to stay broken.

Humans are the only species who subvert truth for their own entertainment. They call them jokes. Sometimes puns.

Every aspect of Reid was precise, certain, every color in its proper place. Undiluted by indecision, he saw the world in black and white, suffering none of the messy, charcoal colors in between. The colors of ash and smoke. Of fear and doubt. The colors of me.

closing your eyes will not make it so the monsters can’t see you. It will only make you blind.

Do not mistake me for porcelain. Do not mistake me for weak.

Day 1,361 of My Captiv- Oh, Let Us Cut the Shit, Shall We? We Have a Ring to Retrieve.

What the mind cannot accept, the heart can finally never adore.

If you are unafraid to look, darling, you are unafraid to find.

There is no rose without a thorn.

Conscience does make cowards of us all.

With an exasperated sigh, he turned his head to kiss my fingers. “You’re impossible.” “I’m impractical, improbable, but never impossible.

Tell me again about the intelligence of humans. They cannot even manage to comprehend predictable meteorological events.

There are people one knows and people one doesn't. One shouldn't cheapen the former by feigning intimacy with the latter.

I would die for my brothers, but I sure as heck wouldn’t do what they told me to. They’re idiots.

You should both show your scars […] They mean you survived.

Last night we told you that none of the angels remember where we landed when we fell," Daniel said. "Yeah, about that... How's it possible?" Shelby said. "You'd think that kind of thing would leave an impression on the old memorizer." Cam's face reddened. "You try falling for nine days through multiple dimensions and trillions of miles, landing on your face, breaking your wings, rolling around concussed for who knows how long, wandering the desert for decades looking for any clue as to who or what or where you are - then talk to me about the old memorizer.

Tova knew there was a bottom to those depths of despair. Once your soul was soaked through with grief, any more simply ran off, overflowed, the way maple syrup on Saturday morning pancakes always cascaded onto the table whenever Erik was allowed to pour it on himself.

The Civil War defined us as what we are and it opened us to being what we became, good and bad things... It was the crossroads of our being, and it was a hell of a crossroads.

I expected little else" [...]"How dare you?" I clutched the front of my ruined dress in mock affront. "I am a God-fearing Christian woman now--

There is no solution for grief. Only time.

Well, what is it you all usually do during the day?" I made to pull the door to the stairwell but Ansel caught it and held it open for me. Okay, I didn't just like him - I adored him. "I assume it involves kicking puppies or stealing the souls of children.

I think making mistakes and discovering them for yourself is of great value, but to have someone else to point out your mistakes is a shortcut of the process.

Our respect had once been mutual. But that was before the envy.

It seems to be a hallmark of the human species: abysmal communication skills. Not that any other species are much better, mind you, but even a herring can tell which way the school it belongs to is turning and follow accordingly. Why can humans not use their millions of words to simply tell one another what they desire?

Have I told you,” I said, bending low to whisper in his ear, “how beautiful you are when you smile?” He smiled then, the kind of smile that dimpled his cheek and set my heart on fire. “Tell me.” “Sometimes when I look at you, I can’t breathe.” My hand moved to his belt. “I can’t think. I can’t function until you look back. And when you give me this smile”—I brushed my knuckle against his dimple—“it’s like a secret just for the two of us. I don’t think I ever love you more than when you smile at me.

our lives—the way we live, the things we do-they reflect our hearts

You're playing with fire here, Lou. Sooner or later, you will get burnt. I grinned halfheartedly. Let's hope for later, then.

I love you, Lou.” His eyes welled with fresh tears. “I—I’ve never seen anyone savor anything the way you do everything. You make me feel alive. Just being in your presence—it’s addictive. You’re addictive. It doesn’t matter you’re a witch. The way you see the world . . . I want to see it that way too. I want to be with you always, Lou. I never want to be parted from you again.

Despite my shaking shoulders, Lou held me tightly. Tears streamed down her own cheeks. I crushed her against me, breath shuddering—each gasp painful, burning—as I buried my face in the crook of her neck. As I finally, finally allowed the grief to win. To consume me. In great, heaving sobs, it burst forth—a torrent of hurt and bitterness, of shame and regret—and I choked on it, helpless to stop its wrath. Helpless to do anything but cling to Lou. My friend. My shelter. My home.

Ah, to be a human, for whom bliss can be achieved by mere ignorance! Here, in the kingdom of animals, ignorance is dangerous. The poor herring dropped into the tank lacks any awareness of the shark lurking below. Ask the herring whether what he doesn’t know can hurt him.

It’s a real pity,” Beau finally muttered, shaking his head and looking at each of us in turn. His eyes shone with disappointment. “I know you’re all too preoccupied with your pining to notice, but I just caught my reflection in that last puddle—and damn, I look good.

Deep down, I’d known how this would end all along. I’d sensed it from the moment we’d first met, from the time I’d first glimpsed the Balisarda in his bandolier—two star-crossed lovers brought together by fate or providence. By life and by death. By gods, or perhaps monsters. We would end with a stake and a match.

I crept into his lap. “What am I, Reid? Say it again.” “You’re a witch.” “And what are you?” He didn’t hesitate, and my heart swelled. “I am too.” “Only partly right, I’m afraid.” My smile—now genuine—grew at his confusion, and I leaned forward, rubbing my nose against his. He closed his eyes. “Allow me to fill in the gaps for you.” I kissed his nose. “You are a huntsman.” Though he recoiled slightly, I didn’t let him escape, kissing his cheek. “You are a son.” I kissed his other cheek. “You are a brother.” His forehead. “You are a husband.” His eyelids and his chin. “You are brave and strong and good .” And, finally, his lips. “But most important, you are loved.

The point I would make is that the novelist and the historian are seeking the same thing: the truth – not a different truth: the same truth – only they reach it, or try to reach it, by different routes. Whether the event took place in a world now gone to dust, preserved by documents and evaluated by scholarship, or in the imagination, preserved by memory and distilled by the creative process, they both want to tell us how it was: to re-create it, by their separate methods, and make it live again in the world around them.

All of these things had been stored away for her to pass along someday, relics to be carried up the branches of the family tree. But the family tree stopped growing long ago, its canopy thinned and frayed, not a single sap springing from the old rotting trunk. Some trees aren't meant to sprout tender new branches, but to stand stoically on the forest floor, silently decaying.

Mallory, I lo—" "Wait!" This was from Amy, and she looked at Mallory. "I'm sorry, but don't you think you should tell him about the car before he finishes that sentence?" "No," Mallory said, giving Amy the evil eye. She wanted the rest of Ty's sentence, dammit! Ty frowned. "What's wrong with the Shelby?" "Nothing," Mallory said quickly. "Nothing," Amy agreed. "Except for the dinged door where she parked too close to the mailbox." "Oh my God," Mallory said to her. "What are you, the car police?" "The classic car police," Amy said smugly. "You parked the Shelby on the street?" Ty asked Mallory incredulously. She went brows-up. "Okay," he said, lifting his hands. "It's okay. Never mind about the car.

As they are now also your enemies, I must offer a piece of advice: 'tis dangerous to meddle in the affairs of witches. Forget your vengeance. Forget everything you've learned about this world of shadows and magic. You are wildly outmatched and woefully inadequate in the face of these women. Death is the kindest of their torments - a gift bestowed only to those who earned it.

Tova wonders sometimes if it’s better that way, to have one’s tragedies clustered together, to make good use of the existing rawness. Get it over with in one shot. Tova knew there was a bottom to those depths of despair. Once your soul was soaked though with grief, any more simply ran off, overflowed, the way maple syrup on Saturday-morning pancakes always cascaded onto the table whenever Erik was allowed to pour it himself.

Walking away from you with a broken heart is easier to handle than selling my soul to make love with you. I'm sorry, Adrian. I might be lonely, and naive, and all the things you think about me. But I'm also true to myself, and I won't denigrate my feelings for you. They're much too precious in a world that offers so little love.

Shelby handed off her bouquet and faced Luke, taking both his hands in hers. And she began: “Luke, I love you. I promise that each day I have you in my life, I will show you my love.” Noah's eyes drifted to Ellie's and a smile played about his lips as the bride and groom spoke. “Shelby, I love you. In each day of our lives together, I will show my love. And where there is injury, I will pardon without hesitation.” “Where there is doubt, Luke, I will have faith in you.” “In times of despair, you will be my hope.” “In times of darkness, I will find my light in you.” “When there is sadness, let me bring you joy.” “Luke, I will not so much seek to be consoled as to console.” “I will seek to understand, not just to be understood.” “I will love, not just crave love.” “I pledge you my heart, my life.” “And I pledge mine to you.” “I, Luke Riordan, take you, Shelby MacIntyre, to be wife, my best friend, my lover, my partner, the head of my family and other half of my heart. Forever.” He slid a ring on her finger. Shelby slid a ring onto his finger. “I, Shelby MacIntyre, take you, Luke Riordan, to be my husband, best friend, lover, partner, head of my family and other half of my heart. Forever.

Would my soul remember him? A small part of me prayed I wouldn’t, but the rest knew better. I loved him. Deeply. Such a love was not something of just the heart and mind. It wasn’t something to be felt and eventually forgotten, to be touched without it in return touching you. No . . . this love was something else. Something irrevocable. It was something of the soul. I knew I would remember him. I would feel his absence even after death, would ache for him to be near me in a way he could never be again.