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I'm the best kind of thief, the kind that leaves behind items equal in value to those he's stolen.

Holly Black

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Holly Black
Age: 53
Born: 1971
Born: November 10
Journalist
Novelist
Writer
New Jersey
United States
Kind
Stolen
Leaves
Value
Behinds
Equal
Behind
Thief
Values
Items
Best
Thieves

More quotes by Holly Black

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For me the curse is a crutch, but the con is everything.
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Yeah, the whole family knows. It's no big deal. One night at dinner I said, 'Mom, you know the forbidden love that Spock has for Kirk? Well, me too.' It was easier for her to understand that way.
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Ah coffee. The sweet balm by which we shall accomplish today's tasks.
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He’s quiet then. We lie next to each other, twin corpses waiting for burial.
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A stray dog, I might understand, she said. But this? You are too softhearted. No, Mabry, Ravus said. I am not. He looked in Val's direction. I think she wants to die. Maybe you can help her after all, Mabry said. You're good at helping people die.
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Clever as the Devil and twice as pretty.
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She can’t help it. She loves the con. I tell myself I’m not like her, but I have to admit I love it too.
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He runs to the sink to spit it out. I grin. There’s nothing quite as funny as someone else’s misery.
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You okay? Anton asks, looking at me like he's trying to figure out if I'm drunk. His plans depend on me. I look as blank as possible and hope that it freaks him out. No point in my being the only miserable one.
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Memory is slippery. It bends to our understanding of the world, twists to accommodate our prejudices. It is unreliable. Witnesses seldom remember the same things. They identify the wrong people. They give us the details of events that never happened. Memory is slippery, but my memories suddenly feel slipperier.
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We are, largely, who we remember ourselves to be. That's why habits are so hard to break. If we know ourselves to be liars, we expect not to tell the truth. If we think of ourselves as honest, we try harder.
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She'd always been a little contemptuous of beauty, as though it was something you had to trade away some other vital thing for.
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Farewell, Father, she said. He fell back upon his chair, choking. She laughed, not with mirth or even mockery, but something that was closer to a sob. You crafted me so sharp, I cut even myself.
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You want me to say something? Okay. Sometimes I think I am what you made me. And sometimes I don’t know who I am at all. And either way I’m not happy.
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You are the best kind of killer, Cassel Sharpe, the kind that never has blood on his hands. The kind that never has to sicken at the sight of what he's done, or come to like it too much.
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Mutually assured destruction.
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I like all the things that make you monstrous.
Holly Black
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I'm not very good at explaining things, she said. But I think you have beautiful eyes. I love the gold in them. I love that they're different from my eyes- I see mine all the time and I'm bored with them.
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A girl like that, Grandad said, perfumes herself with ozone and metal filings.
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He was as honest as any criminal can hope to be.
Holly Black