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What have I done? I whispered. Jill put her arm around me, but it was Dimitri who spoke. What you had to.

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Spoke
Arms
Around
Done
Jill
Whispered
Spokes

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But to be able to kiss someone you love when you're fully and completely in control of yourself and know who you are...it's exquisite. How we love others is affected by how we love ourselves.
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You forgot my first lesson: don't hesitate.
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A different word usually came to my mind when I thought of Yeva, though it did sound a lot like “witch.
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Indeed. That pony collection isn’t nearly complete,” Carter mused. When I dared a look back at him, I saw that the angel was smiling at me. “You see? You aren’t lost. No matter what happens to you, you have a plan. There’s still hope.
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I found the candles—atrocious air freshening ones that smelled like fake pine.
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Nah, you always look good. As for me … well, it's hard to explain. The auras are getting to me. There's so much sorrow around here. You can't even begin to understand. It radiates from everyone on a spiritual level. It's overwhelming. It makes your dark aura downright cheerful.
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It's okay, I said soothingly. You're just getting your stride back. Once you're up to full power, I'll go crack a rib or something so we can test it. She groaned. The horrible part is that I don't think you're joking.
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I lost track of day and night too. My time was divided into Dimitri and not-Dimitri. He was my world. When he wasn't there, the moments were agony.
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Call me crazy for asking this, but, um, are Lissa and I going with you? No No? No.
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Never thought I’d see the day when you’d throw your arms around a vam - someone like me
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He shrugged. The same as any other. It's a way to make people feel better about themselves. Everyone likes feeling special. Being part of an elite group is a way to do that. But you weren't part of it? No need. I already know I'm special.
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I’m a succubus.” He shook his head. “No, you aren’t.” “Yes, I am.” “You aren’t.” I was a bit surprised to be having this conversation. “I am too.” “No. Succubi are flame-eyed and bat-winged. Everyone knows that. They don’t wear jeans and sweaters.
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Can't you... I don't. Find a hobby or something? Being charming is my hobby.
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I decided the Alchemists needed an entire department devoted to handling Adrian Ivashkov.
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It is terrifying,” said Adrian. “And weird, for lack of a better word. And part of you knows… well, part of you knows something’s not right. That your thinking’s not right. But what do you about that? All we can go on is what we think, how we see the world. If you can’t trust your own mind, what can you trust? What other people tell you?
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We were going to kill ourselves in trying to kill each other.
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And sometimes, if I was really, really lucky, he’d smile at me. A real smile, too—not the dry one that accompanied the sarcasm we tossed around so often. I didn’t want to admit it to anyone—not to Lissa, not even to myself—but some days, I lived for those smiles.
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Did you know that it's a lot harder to put organs back in the body than it is to get them out?
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The future of our relationship hinged on advice from a fifteen-year old girl, a probably untrue story from a one-eyed Chihuahua trainer, and me unromantically – yet skillfully – kissing you on top of silverware and china?
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Adrian's face was the picture of perfect politeness and restraint, meaning something disastrous was about to happen.
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