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You come to us well tempered, my child, and it is not in my nature to be sorry for it. It is a well tempered blade that is the strongest.

R.L. LaFevers

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R.L. LaFevers
Nature
Wells
Come
Tempered
Well
Blade
Children
Blades
Strongest
Sorry
Child

More quotes by R.L. LaFevers

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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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It is a good thing I no longer have a heart, because if I did, it would surely break.
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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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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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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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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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He barks out a laugh. My little rebel.
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The pain of hope dying is worse than his fists and boots.
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There is no shame in scars, Ismae.
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You are not my nursemaid. Remember, I am rescuing you.
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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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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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One heart cannot serve two masters.
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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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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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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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... true faith never comes without anguish.
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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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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.
R.L. LaFevers