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He smiles then, and even though it is well past midnight, its as if the sun has just come out.

R.L. LaFevers

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R.L. LaFevers
Past
Wells
Come
Well
Even
Smiles
Midnight
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More quotes by R.L. LaFevers

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It is all we have left to us. And while it is more than I ever dared dream, it is nowhere near enough.
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When one consorts with assassins, one must expect to dance along the edge of a knife once or twice.
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One heart cannot serve two masters.
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Whenever you are ready, or if you never are, my heart is yours.
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However, there are those who deserve to die but who have not yet encountered the means to do so—we help them on their way.
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Hate cannot be fought with hate. Evil cannot be conquered by darkness. Only love has the power to conquer them both.
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Every time he glances at me I feel it just as surely as if he has reached out and run his finger along my soul. It is all I can do not to smile at the sheer wonder of it.
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It is a good thing I no longer have a heart, because if I did, it would surely break.
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The pain of hope dying is worse than his fists and boots.
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Whenever you are ready, or if you never are, my heart is yours, until Death do us part. Whatever that may mean when consorting with one of Death’s handmaidens.
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He barks out a laugh. My little rebel.
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People hear and see what they expect to hear and see.
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And so it is with us we serve as handmaidens to Death. When we are guided by His will, killing is a sacrament.
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When he laces his fingers through mine, my heart does its now familiar panicked flight, bumping painfully against my ribs. My shoulder twitches as if to pull my hand back, but my heart overrules it.
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I am left with the conviction that an avalanche would be easier to dissuade than that man.
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For all that I have kissed before, I have never felt anything like this. It is as if I have swallowed a tiny piece of the sun, its warmth and light reaching into every corner of my soul and chasing away the shadows. I surrender to that kiss - surrender to the strength and the courage and the sheer goodness of the man.
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The body on the ground is nothing more than a shell, a husk, and I am filled with a sense of peace. Yes, I think. Yes. This is what I want to be. An instrument of mercy, not vengeance.
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Good intentions are only lies the weak tell themselves.
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We are all of us, gods and mortals, made up of many pieces, some of them broken, some of them scarred, but none of them the total sum of who we are.
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God's Teeth,' he says. 'I was only trying to wake you. You were crying out in your sleep.' 'I was not,' I say, then look from his neck to my knife. 'When I tried to wake you, you stabbed me.' He sounds sore put out. and I cannot blame him.
R.L. LaFevers