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The pain of hope dying is worse than his fists and boots.

R.L. LaFevers

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R.L. LaFevers
Worse
Dying
Hope
Pain
Fists
Boots

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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There is no shame in scars, Ismae.
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Good intentions are only lies the weak tell themselves.
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People hear and see what they expect to hear and see.
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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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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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... true faith never comes without anguish.
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Why be the sheep when you can be the wolf?
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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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He smiles then, and even though it is well past midnight, its as if the sun has just come out.
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One heart cannot serve two masters.
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He barks out a laugh. My little rebel.
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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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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 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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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.
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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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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.
R.L. LaFevers