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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.

R.L. LaFevers

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R.L. LaFevers
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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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One heart cannot serve two masters.
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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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I am sorry,' he whispers. 'I am sorry I treated you so ill. I thought only to protect Duval.' 'It was not I who was poisoning him,' I say. 'No, but you had stolen his heart and I was afraid you would rip it from his chest when you left.
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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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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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The pain of hope dying is worse than his fists and boots.
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Why be the sheep when you can be the wolf?
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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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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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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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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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If he is smart, he will run. He is not.
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Whenever you are ready, or if you never are, my heart is yours.
R.L. LaFevers
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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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Perhaps that is because you mistake death for justice, and they are not the same thing at all.
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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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When one consorts with assassins, one must expect to dance along the edge of a knife once or twice.
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