Vivian Silver Quotes

I don’t want anyone. I want you. Your wit and intelligence, your kindness and charm. The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh and how your smile makes the world tilt just a little bit. I even want the disgusting food combinations you put together and somehow make taste good. But that’s the thing about you, Vivian. You take the most ordinary or unexpected things and make them extraordinary. You see the silver lining in every situation and the good in everyone, even if they don’t deserve it. And I’m selfish enough to hope you’ll see how I don’t just want but need you. Today, tomorrow, and all the days that come after that.

Molly touches Vivian’s shoulder, frail and bony under her thin silk cardigan. She half turns, half smiles, her eyes brimming with tears. Her hand flutters to her clavicle, to the silver chain around her neck, the claddagh charm—those tiny hands clasping a crowned heart: love, loyalty, friendship—a never-ending path that leads away from home and circles back. What a journey Vivian and this necklace have taken, Molly thinks: from a cobblestoned village on the coast of Ireland to a tenement in New York to a train filled with children, steaming westward through farmland, to a lifetime in Minnesota. And now to this moment, nearly a hundred years after it all began, on the porch of an old house in Maine

Nesta didn't care that she was covered in sweat, wearing her leathers amongst a bejewelled crowd. Not as she staggered onto the veranda at the top of the House and gaped at the stars raining across the bowl of the sky. They zoomed by so close some sparked against the stones, leaving glowing dust in their wake. She had a vague sense of Cassian and Mor and Azriel nearby, of Feyre and Rhys and Lucien, of Elain and Varian and Helion. Of Kallias and Viviane, also swollen with child and glowing with joy and strength. Nesta smiled in greeting and left them blinking, but she forgot them within a moment because the stars, the stars, the stars... She hadn't realised that such beauty existed in the world. That she might feel so full from wonder it could hurt, like her body couldn't contain all of it. And she didn't know why she cried then, but the tears began rolling down her face. The world was beautiful, and she was so grateful to be in it. To be alive, to be here, to see this. She stuck out a hand over the railing, grazing a star as it shot past, and her fingers came away glowing with blue and green dust. She laughed, a sound of pure joy, and she cried more, because that joy was a miracle.

she takes a deep breath and runs a finger under the chain around her neck. “My dad gave me these charms, and each one represents something different. The raven protects against black magic. The bear inspires courage. The fish signifies a refusal to recognize other people’s magic.” “I never knew those charms had meaning.” Absently, Vivian reaches up and touches her own necklace. Looking closely at the silver pendant for the first time, Molly asks, “Is your necklace—significant?” “Well, it is to me. But it doesn’t have any magical qualities.” She smiles. “Maybe it does,” Molly says. “I think of these qualities as metaphorical, you know?

Molly’s been surprised to find that she looks forward to it. Ninety-one years is a long time to live—there’s a lot of history in those boxes, and she never knows what she’ll find. The other day, for example, they went through a box of Christmas ornaments from the 1930s that Vivian had forgotten she’d kept. Cardboard stars and snowflakes covered in gold and silver glitter; ornate glass balls, red and green and gold. Vivian told her stories about decorating the family store for the holidays, putting these ornaments on a real pine tree in the window.

I don’t want anyone. I want you. Your wit and intelligence, your kindness and charm. The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh and how your smile makes the world tilt just a little bit. I even want the disgusting food combinations you put together and somehow make taste good. But that’s the thing about you, Vivian. You take the most ordinary or unexpected things and make them extraordinary. You see the silver lining in every situation and the good in everyone, even if they don’t deserve it. And I’m selfish enough to hope you’ll see how much I don’t just want but need you. Today, tomorrow, and all the days that come after that.

But that’s the thing about you, Vivian.” My voice softened into something rawer. “You take the most ordinary or unexpected things and make them extraordinary. You see the silver lining in every situation and the good in everyone, even if they don’t deserve it. And I’m selfish enough to hope you’ll see how much I don’t just want but need you. Today, tomorrow, and all the days that come after that.