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If she were going to die, I'd already be screaming. I'm a female bean sidhe. That's what we do.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
Already
Dies
Going
Banshees
Bean
Screaming
Female

More quotes by Rachel Vincent

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Tod's pale brows arched halfway up his forehead, and he looked suddenly, achingly wistful. She knows not what she says... Maybe not. But I was starting to get a pretty good idea.
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There was just no good way for a dead son to greet his mother almost two weeks after his funeral.
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The queen was my favorite chess piece. Unlike the women I knew in real life, she was powerful. Her job was to defend her husband at all costs, because while he was weak and practically defenseless—only allowed to move one square at a time—she was the strongest player on the board, hindered by no restrictions at all.
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I wanted a do over. A time machine. That magic wand. But real life didn't have any easy outs, and very few happily-ever-afters. The real world was more like a Choose Your Own Adventure book, with most of the choices ripped out before you even opened the cover.
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But I had no plans to end my own life, and accidents couldn't be predicted. Neither could murder, unless my aunt and uncle were planning to take me out themselves.
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A smart woman would have shut up. Did I? Hell no. Intelligence is overrated anyway.
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If I weren't already dead, I'd be alive with joy.
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The problem with getting everything you want in life is that you're not prepared for disappointment when it comes.
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At least you don’t need a prescription for tequila.
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He’s like the Rasputin of reapers.
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I could take care of that obstacle for her - I'd tear down anything standing between us - but I couldn't destroy what I couldn't even see.
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Pain is what I feed from when nothing else will nourish the noxious fury in my heart. It’s what I cling to when everything else—everyone else—slips right between my grasping fingers.
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The school sent you flowers. I’m sure that totally makes up for the fact that they hired the psychotic, soul-stealing pedophile who murdered you in your own home.
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You already said that, Sabine said, folding the wrapper back from her burger. You said it a lot, actually. Which supports my theory that apologies are basically pointless. They don't fix anything, right? That's why I rarely bother.
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He took both of my hands, twisting to face me more fully on the flattened box beneath us, and again the colors in his irises seemed to pulse with my heartbeat.
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You think I need to be rescued? I think it doesn't hurt to let someone else do the rescuing every now and then, when your own armor starts to get banged up.
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Meow, Meow, Motherfucker.
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Em didn't truly understand about my panic attacks - no one did. But she'd never pushed me to explain, never tried to ditch me when things got weird, and never once looked at me like I was a freak.
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I’d learned that my mother was a badass in disguise. She was Van Helsing in an apron and heels, and—at least for the time being—I couldn’t think of a single thing cooler than that.
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What if the house catches fire?” “Roast marshmallows. And if it floods, you’ll go down with the ship. If there’s a tornado, I’ll meet both you and this house in Oz, after my shift. Got it?
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