Throne Of Glass Best Quotes

The best lies were always mixed with truth.

Sometimes there won’t be a right choice, just the best of several bad options.

Aelin frightens everyone…But not him. I think that’s why she fell in love with him, against her best intentions. Rowan beheld all Aelin was and is, and he was not afraid

She flung herself on the male, crashing into him hard enough that anyone else might have gone rocking back into the stone wall. But the male grabbed her to him, his massive arms wrapping around her tightly and lifting her up.

You will make mistakes. You will make decisions, and sometimes you will regret those choices. Sometimes there won't be a right choice, just the best of several bad options. I don't need to tell you that you can do this-you know you can.

I think love should make you happy. It should make you into the best possible version of yourself.

And what do you now about love?"[...] "I think love should make you happy.[...] It should make you the best version of yorself.

Fenrys snorted, toying with a small curl of golden hair at his nape. “How you even manage to walk with that much steel on you, Whitethorn, has always been a mystery to me.” Rowan said smoothly, “How no one has ever cut out your tongue just to shut you up has always been a mystery to me as well.” An edged chuckle. “I’ve been told it’s my best feature. At least the women think so.

There is no one else to do this.” The unspoken words said the rest: They sent their best.

Aelin,” said Aedion, dredging up a drawl as best he could, even as the lie choked him, “has her own plans that she’ll only tell us about when the time is right.

The music broke her apart and put her back together, only to rend her asunder again and again. And then the climax, the compilation of all the sounds she had loved best, amplified until they echoed into eternity. As the final note swelled, a gasp broke from her, setting the tears in her eyes spilling down her face. She didn't care who saw.

I think love should make you happy... It should make you into the best possible version of yourself." "Are you implying I am neither of those things?" "I don't think you even know what happiness is.

Like Hasar, she isn’t an easy person to be with, to understand. Aelin frightens everyone.” He snorted. “But not him. I think that’s why she fell in love with him, against her best intentions. Rowan beheld all Aelin was and is, and he was not afraid.

You will make mistakes. You will make decisions, and sometimes you will regret those choices. Sometimes there won't be a right choice, just the best of several bad options. I don't need to tell you that you can do this--you know you can...

You will make mistakes. You will make decisions, and sometimes you will regret those choices. Sometimes there won’t be a right choice, just the best of several bad options.

Hasar is cranky and cold. Sartaq is used to these conditions and doesn’t care. Kashin is trying to make the best of it, because he’s so damned nice, but they’re all just a little nervous that we’re marching on a hundred thousand soldiers, potentially more on the way, and that Erawan is not out of commission. Neither is Maeve. So they’re pissed. They like you, but they’re pissed.” “I’d gathered as much,” Aelin said drily, “when Hasar called me a stupid cow.” It had taken all of Elide’s restraint not to lunge for the princess. And from the growl that had come from the Fae males, even Lorcan, gods above, she knew it had been just as difficult for them. Aelin had only inclined her head to the princess and smiled. Just as she was smiling now. Borte waved off Aelin’s words. “Hasar calls everyone a stupid cow. You’re in good company.

She reached into the pocket of her riding leathers and extended the Amulet of Orynth and a sliver of black stone to Dorian. He balked. “Elena said Mala’s bloodline can stop this. It runs in both your houses.” The golden eyes were weary—heavy. He realized what Manon was asking. Aelin had never planned to see Terrasen again. She had married Rowan knowing she would have months at best, days at the worst, with him. But she would give Terrasen a legal king. To hold her territory together. She had made plans for all of them—and none for herself. “The quest does not end here,” Dorian said softly. Manon shook her head. And he knew she meant more than the keys, than the war, as she said, “No, it does not.” He took the keys from her. They throbbed and flickered, warming his palm. A foreign, horrible presence, and yet … all that stood between them and destruction. No, the quest did not end here. Not even close. Dorian slid the keys into his pocket. And the road that now sprawled away before him, curving into unknown, awaiting shadow … it did not frighten him.

Aelin frightens everyone.” He snorted. “But not him. I think that’s why she fell in love with him, against her best intentions. Rowan beheld all Aelin was and is, and he was not afraid.

I think love should make you happy," Elide said, remembering her mother and father. How often they had smiled and laughed, how they had gazed at each other." It should make you into the best possible version of yourself.

Each spring for a period of weeks the imperial gardens were filled with prize tulips (Turkish, Dutch, Iranian), all of them shown to their best advantage. Tulips whose petals had flexed wide were held shut with fine threads hand-tied. Most of the bulbs had been grown in place, but these were supplemented by thousands of cut stems held in glass bottles; the scale of the display was further compounded by mirrors placed strategically around the garden. Each variety was marked with a label made from silver filigree. In place of every fourth flower a candle, its wick trimmed to tulip height, was set into the ground. Songbirds in gilded cages supplied the music, and hundreds of giant tortoises carrying candles on their backs lumbered through the gardens, further illuminating the display. All the guests were required to dress in colors that flattered those of the tulips. At the appointed moment a cannon sounded, the doors to the harem were flung open, and the sultan's mistresses stepped into the garden led by eunuchs bearing torches. The whole scene was repeated every night for as long as the tulips were in bloom, for as long as Sultan Ahmed managed to cling to his throne.

He could offer her nothing but the truth. “You will make mistakes. You will make decisions, and sometimes you will regret those choices. Sometimes there won’t be a right choice, just the best of several bad options. I don’t need to tell you that you can do this—you know you can. I wouldn’t have sworn the oath to you if I didn’t think you could.

The darkness had no end and no beginning. It was the best that had haunted her steps for ten years, and she free-fell into it, welcomed it.

He’d barely breathed during that first time, and he’d done his best to be gentle, to make it as painless for her as possible. She’d still winced, and her eyes had gleamed with tears, but when he’d asked if she needed to stop, she’d just kissed him. Again and again. All through that first night he’d held her and allowed himself to imagine that this was how every night for the rest of his life would

Ella era la heredera del fuego. Ella era fuego, y luz, y ceniza, y brasas. Ella era Aelin Fireheart, y no se inclinaba ante nada ni nadie, salvo la corona que le pertenecía por sangre y supervivencia, y triunfo.

That’s not even the best part!” “There’s a ‘best part’?” the Crown Prince said, face caught between a wince and a smile. Chaol glared at her before speaking. “There’s no hope of escaping from Endovier. Your father made sure that each of Endovier’s sentries could shoot a squirrel from two hundred paces away. To attempt to flee is suicide.” “But you’re alive,” the prince said to her. Celaena’s smile faded as the memory struck her. “Yes.” “What happened?” Dorian asked. Her eyes turned cold and hard. “I snapped.” “That’s all you have to offer as an explanation for what you did?” Captain Westfall demanded. “She killed her overseer and twenty-three sentries before they caught her. She was a finger’s tip from the wall before the guards knocked her unconscious.” “So?” Dorian said. Celaena seethed. “So? Do you know how far the wall is from the mines?” He gave her a blank look. She closed her eyes and sighed dramatically. “From my shaft, it was three hundred sixty-three feet. I had someone measure.” “So?” Dorian repeated. “Captain Westfall, how far do slaves make it from the mines when they try to escape?” “Three feet,” he muttered. “Endovier sentries usually shoot a man down before he’s moved three feet.

She touched his arm. “If you need anything, send word. It’ll be a few weeks before we reach Orynth, but—I suppose with magic returned, you can find a messenger to get word to me quickly.” “Thanks to you—and to your friends.” She glanced over her shoulder at them. They were all trying their best to look like they weren’t eavesdropping. “Thanks to all of us,” she said quietly. “And to you.” Dorian gazed toward the city horizon, the rolling green foothills beyond. “If you had asked me nine months ago if I thought …” He shook his head. “So much has changed.” “And will keep changing,” she said, squeezing his arm once. “But … There are things that won’t change. I will always be your friend.” His throat bobbed. “I wish I could see her, just one last time. To tell her … to say what was in my heart.” “She knows,” Aelin said, blinking against the burning in her eyes. “I’ll miss you,” Dorian said. “Though I doubt the next time we meet will be in such … civilized circumstances.” She tried not to think about it. He gestured over her shoulder to her court. “Don’t make them too miserable. They’re only trying to help you.” She smiled. To her surprise, a king smiled back. “Send me any good books that you read,” she said. “Only if you do the same.” She embraced him one last time. “Thank you—for everything,” she whispered. Dorian squeezed her, and then stepped away as Aelin mounted her horse and nudged it into a walk.

When the clock struck ten and he still hadn’t come to her, she found herself walking to his rooms. Perhaps he was waiting for her there. Perhaps he’d just fallen asleep without meaning to. But she hurried down the halls and stairs, her palms turning slicker with each step. Chaol was the Captain of the Guard. He held his own against her every day. He’d bested her in their first sparring match. Yet Sam had been her equal in many ways, too. And he’d still been caught and tortured by Rourke Farran—still died the most brutal death she’d ever seen. And if Chaol … She was running now.

If you loot, if you riot, if you cause one lick of trouble. I will find you, and I will burn you to ash. If you revolt against your new king, if you try to take his castle, then this wall”—she gestured with her burning hand—"will turn to molten glass and flood your streets, your homes, your throats. If I catch you holding on to your slaves, if I hear of any household keeping them captive, you are dead. So I suggest that you tell your friends, and families, and neighbors. I suggest that you act like reasonable, intelligent people. And I suggest that you stay on your best behavior until your king is ready to greet you, at which time I swear on my crown that I will yield control of this city for him. If anyone has a problem with it, you can take it up with my court.” She motioned behind her. Rowan, Aedion, and Lysandra—bloodied, battered, filthy—grinned like hellions. “Or,” Aelin said, the flames winking out on her hand, “you can take it up with me.

You never mentioned your fee. For your help.” It had to be exorbitant. If they’d sent their best, if she had such skill— Yrene’s brows furrowed. “If you are so inclined, any donation may be made to help the upkeep of the Torre and its staff, but there is no price, no expectation.” “Why?” Her hand slid into her pocket as she rose. “I was given this gift by Silba. It is not right to charge for what was granted for free.” Silba—Goddess of Healing. He had known one other young woman who was gods-blessed. No wonder they both possessed such unbanked fire in their eyes.

She grumbled a slew of nasty words and paced, her black boots clunking against the uneven floorboards. Pirate Lord indeed. This was the best room he could offer them? She was Adarlan’s Assassin, the right arm of Arobynn Hamel—not some backstreet harlot!

But I do know that you were the best, and that people still whisper when they mention your name.” He fixed her with a stare. “If you’re willing to fight for me, to be my Champion during the months the competition will go on, I’ll see to it that my father frees you after five years.

You will make mistakes. You will make decisions, and sometimes you will regret those choices. Sometimes there won’t be a right choice, just the best of several bad options. I don’t need to tell you that you can do this—you know you can. I wouldn’t have sworn the oath to you if I didn’t think you could.

Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you. Thank you for the laughter on the days when I didn’t think I could smile, for holding my hand when I needed a reminder that I was loved, and for being my best friend and safe harbor. You are the greatest joy in my life, and even a thousand pages would not be enough to express how much I love you.

Lin because if anyone ever called her by her full name, Linnea—the name her softhearted mother had given her before Lin’s grandmother tore out her heart—that person wound up with missing teeth at best. A missing face at worst.

best friends until we’re nothing but dust. (And then some.)

It should make you into the best possible version of yourself.” “Are you implying I am neither of those things?” “I don’t think you even know what happiness is.

He went on about the different types—the bulls were the best, but a female could be just as fierce and twice as smart.

Show-off,” he murmured. Aelin patted his arm. “You put on a pretty fancy display yourself, Prince.” He smiled, his tattoo crinkling. “Will that display be the last of your surprises, or are there more coming?” She debated it—telling him, revealing it. Maybe. Rowan sat up, the blanket sliding from him. Is this the sort of surprise that will end with my heart stopping dead in my chest? It was a lucky guess. The best lies are always mixed with truth.

I like ice the best,” Dorian admitted at last. “It was the first element that came out of me—I don’t know why.” “You’re not a cold person.” He arched a brow. “Is that your professional opinion?” You can descend to those levels when you are angry, when your friends are threatened. But you are not cold, not at heart. I’ve seen men who are, and you are not.” “Neither are you,” he said a bit quietly.

It seems like sacrilege to play that thing,” she said, the word echoing loudly in the space. “Since when are you the religious type, anyway?” Rowan gave her a crooked smile. “Where should I best stand to hear it?” “You might be in for a lot of pain at first.” “Self-conscious today, too?” She pointed to a spot on the stage. “There. Stand there, and stop talking, you insufferable bastard.

If I wanted to look up funeral dirges—laments—from the other kingdoms, where would be the best place to start?” Sensel gave him a confused look, then said, “What a dreadful subject.” Chaol shrugged and took a shot in the dark. “One of my men is from Terrasen, and his mother recently died, so I’d like to honor him by learning one of their songs.” “Is that what the king pays you to do—learn sad songs with which to serenade your men?

Clothes are weapons, too,” he said, pausing on a black velvet gown. “I like this one best.” “I saw it in a shop when I was sixteen and bought it immediately. But when the dress was delivered a few weeks later, it seemed too… old. It overpowered the girl I was. So I never wore it, and it’s hung here for three years.” “You’re not that girl anymore,” he said softly. “Someday, I want to see you wear this.

You must be very important to Her Immortal Majesty if she put you on nurse duty.” “Given your history, she didn’t trust anyone but her best to keep you in line.” Oh, the Prince wanted to tangle. Whatever self-control he’d had on their trek to the fortress was hanging by a thread. Good. “Playing warrior in the woods doesn’t seem like the greatest indicator of talent.” “I fought on killing fields before you, your parents, or your grand-uncle were even born.” She bristled—exactly like he wanted. “Who’s to fight here except birds and beasts?

Do you need anything else? More food?” “With this group it’ll probably be a daily competition to see who can hunt the best.

How you even manage to walk with that much steel on you, Whitethorn, has always been a mystery to me.” Rowan said smoothly, “How no one has ever cut out your tongue just to shut you up has always been a mystery to me as well.” An edged chuckle. “I’ve been told it’s my best feature. At least the women think so.

Do not make the mistake of believing me to be a romantic fool. I do not hold any shred of hope for her.” “Then that does not seem like love at all.” “And what do you know of love?” He was so close—had neared without her realizing it. “I think love should make you happy,” Elide said, remembering her mother and father. How often they had smiled and laughed, how they had gazed at each other. “It should make you into the best possible version of yourself.” “Are you implying I am neither of those things?” “I don’t think you even know what happiness is.

She says you can return to your cushions and dancing and leave us be,” Celaena said. He tried his best to look serious. “Tell her it’s unacceptable for her to spar.” Celaena said something, to which the princess only waved a hand and strode past them onto the sparring floor. “What did you say?” Dorian said. “I said you volunteered to be her first partner,” he said. “Well? You don’t want to upset the princess.” “I will not spar with the princess.” “Would you rather spar with me?” “Perhaps if we had a private lesson in your chambers,” he said smoothly. “Tonight.” “I’ll be waiting.” She curled her hair around a finger.

Rowan straightened as best he could, stalwart against the death that now beckoned, and Aedion could have sworn the prince whispered Aelin’s name. More shouting from the soldiers in the back; some in the front turning to see what the panic was about behind them. Aedion didn’t care. Not with a row of swords before them, gleaming like the teeth of some mighty beast. The commander’s hand came down. And was ripped clean off by a ghost leopard.

You will make mistakes. You will make decisions, and sometimes you will regret those choices. Sometimes there won't be a right choice, just the best of several bad options

You told me he was human. Deep down, he’d remained human, and tried to protect you as best he could. Yet you hate him.” “You’ll forgive me if I find his methods of protecting me to be unpalatable.” “But it was the demon, not the man, who killed your healer.” Dorian clenched his jaw. “It makes no difference.” “Doesn’t it?” Manon frowned. “Most can barely withstand a few months of Valg infestation. You barely withstood it.” He tried not to flinch at the blunt words. “Yet he held on for decades.

Ah, you’re in good hands though. You’ve got the best trainer out of anyone. I’ve seen you two running at dawn. I have to beg mine to put down the bottle and let me train outside of lessons.” He inclined his head toward his trainer, who sat against the wall, the hood of his cape over his eyes. “Sleeping, yet again.” “The Captain of the Guard is a pain in my ass at times,” she said, chucking another knife, “but you’re right—he’s the best.

Aedion drawled as best he could, “The least you could do is take me to dinner before looking at me like that.

The best lies were always mixed with truth

The amusement faded. Dismounting in front of these women … Enough. The word sounded through him. If he could not endure it in front of a group of the world’s best healers, then he would deserve to suffer.

Rowan said smoothly, “How no one has ever cut out your tongue just to shut you up has always been a mystery to me as well.” An edged chuckle. “I’ve been told it’s my best feature. At least the women think so.

But not him. I think that’s why she fell in love with him, against her best intentions. Rowan beheld all Aelin was and is, and he was not afraid.

It was more frequently called by its other name—Antica—and was the largest city on the Southern Continent, home to a mighty empire in its own right, which claimed it had been built by the hands of gods. Also home to the Torre Cesme, the best mortal healers in the world. He’d never known Nesryn’s family had been from the city itself.

You will make mistakes. You will make decisions, and sometimes you will regret those choices. Sometimes there won’t be a right choice, just the best of several bad options. I don’t need to tell you that you can do this—you know you can.

You will make mistakes. You will make decisions, and sometimes you will regret those choices. Sometimes there won't be a right choice, just the best of several bad options.

I thought I gave you an order to stay in Wendlyn.” “I had my reasons, best spoken somewhere secure,” he said onto her hood. “Your friends at the fortress say hello, by the way. I think they miss having an extra scullery maid. Especially Luca—especially in the mornings.

Come,” Ansel said, her hair shimmering in a ray of sunlight. “I suppose you’ll want a bath before you do anything else. I certainly would, if I were you.” Ansel gave her a smile that stretched the splattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Celaena glanced sidelong at the girl and her ornate armor, and followed her from the room. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard in weeks,” she said.

She’d never even heard of a suit like this. It would completely change the way she conducted her missions. Not that she needed the suit to give her an edge. But she was Celaena Sardothien, gods be damned, so didn’t she deserve the very best equipment? With this suit, no one would question her place as Adarlan’s Assassin. Ever. And if they did … Wyrd help them.

How strange it was to hear Dorian, son of the man who had banished and outlawed all traces of magic, talking about powerful amulets. Still, she laughed as best she could.