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Perhaps that is because you mistake death for justice, and they are not the same thing at all.

R.L. LaFevers

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R.L. LaFevers
Death
Thing
Perhaps
Mistake
Justice

More quotes by R.L. LaFevers

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You are not my nursemaid. Remember, I am rescuing you.
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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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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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I comfort myself with the knowledge that if Duval ever feels smothered by me, it will be because I am holding a pillow over his face.
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You would throw away all that we have given you for a man’s love?” “Not a man’s love,” I say softly. “But Duval’s. And I would find a way to serve both my god and my heart. Surely He does not give us hearts so we may spend our lives ignoring them.
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There is no shame in scars, Ismae.
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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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Good intentions are only lies the weak tell themselves.
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If he is smart, he will run. He is not.
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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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It is a good thing I no longer have a heart, because if I did, it would surely break.
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He does not start guiltily, as he should, but frowns in annoyance. Who are you? I slip my hand through the slit of my overskirt, and my fingers close around the hard wood of the crossbow tiller. Vengeance, I say softly.
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He smiles then, and even though it is well past midnight, its as if the sun has just come out.
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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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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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And so it is with us we serve as handmaidens to Death. When we are guided by His will, killing is a sacrament.
R.L. LaFevers
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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.
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In the distance a wolf howls. Let it come, I think. Beast will most likely simply howl back, and the creature will either turn tail and run or fall into line behind him, like the rest of us have.
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... true faith never comes without anguish.
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People hear and see what they expect to hear and see.
R.L. LaFevers