Quote

Is Hopper celebrating with you?” “Hopper? Why would—” My mouth snapped shut for a few moments. “Oh. I, uh, kind of forgot about him.

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Forgot
Shut
Celebrate
Mouth
Mouths
Moments
Hopper
Kind
Snapped
Would
Celebrating

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We all screw up. Everyone makes mistakes. That’s what she did. It was bad judgment, that’s all. You don’t cut off the people you love for mistakes like that.
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Love and loyalty runs deeper than blood.
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I lifted the lid and found a piece of bread and some water—and a rat that quickly darted off the tray. Talk about adding insult to injury.
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Mentor’s Official and Complete Procedural Handbook on Initial Succubus Intake and Probationary Period (Abridged). “Abridged?” I spun toward Jerome. “Tell me you’re getting back at me for the time I accused you of wearing Old Spice.” “That one’s still coming,” said the demon. “This one’s for real.
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There was a look of woe on his face that was almost comical. Raids, bullets, criminals...no problem. A missing duster? Crisis.
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Dorian used to watch you like a starving man who wants meat. Now he looks at you like he wants seconds.
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He sighed and then focused his eyes right on me. It was like drowning, drowning in seas of green. There was nothing in the world except for those eyes. I want to kiss you, Rose, he said softly. And I want you to want me too.
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Oh God. Why, oh why, did I have to be the one to deliver this news? Why couldn’t I be locked away in my room or the library doing something enjoyable, like homework?
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You're beautiful in battle. ... Like an avenging angel come to deliver the justice of heaven. Funny. That is kind of why I'm here. Angels fall, Rose.
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After the bitching I'd done to Abe about going to remote, crappy places, I should have been excited about the prospect of going to Sin City.
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People often ask where I get my inspiration from, and I always say I have no good answer because, well, inspiration comes from everywhere: people, places, memories.
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It wasn't the kind of touch that said, Hey, I've got a plan, so hang in there because we're going to get out of this. It was more like the kind of touch that simply said, You aren't alone. It was really the only thing he could offer. And in that moment, it was enough.
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She probably gave up and started playing Minesweeper. [...] We reached the cafe and found Sydney bent over her laptop, with a barely eaten Danish and what was probably her fourth cup of coffee. We slid into seats beside her. How's it—hey! You ARE playing Minesweeper!
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Oh God. She probably thinks we were off doing—you know—romantic type, um, things—
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She has very strong ideas about family - ideas that probably sound kind of sexist to you. She believes all dhampirs should train and put in time as guardians, but that the women should eventually return home to raise their children together. But not the men? No, he said wryly. She thinks men still need to stay out there and kill Strigoi.
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Do not do that again, he said stiffly. Don't kiss me back then, I retorted. He stared at me for what seemed like forever. I don't give 'Zen lessons' to hear myself talk. I don't give them because you're another student. I'm doing this to teach you control. You're doing a great job, I said bitterly.
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I said earlier that dead things don't always stay dead. Well, I'm one of them. don't worry - I'm not like the Strigoi. But I did die once (I don't recommend it).
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Dimitri: Don't look at me like that. Rose: Like what? Dimitri: You've got this look on your face that says you think I'm delusional, but you're too nice to say anything.
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Really, it's my fault. It was there. A hundred times there. How often did I see it? I knew. It kept happening. Over and over, you'd say you were through with him...and over and over, I'd believe it...no matter what my eyes showed me. No matter what my heart told me. My. Fault.
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This college would probably have the same problem as the last one did. I frowned, What's that? Homework.
Richelle Mead