#ch

She stared at the castle unflinchingly, her form silhouetted against the blazing brightness that sat on the edge of the Avery River. Clouds gathered above them and she raised her head. Through a clearing in the swirling mass, a cluster of stars could be seen. He couldn't help thinking that they gazed down at her... The image haunted his dreams throughout the night: a lovely girl gazing at the stars, and the stars who gazed back ↗

— Sarah J. Maas

#chaol-westfall #sarah-j-maas #throne-of-glass #dreams

Red like blood White like bone Red like solitude White like silence Red like the beastly instinct White like a god's heart Red like thawing hatred White like a frozen, pained cry Red like the night's hungry shadows Like a sigh piercing the moon it shines white and shatters red ↗

— Tite Kubo

#hatred

You chose to come to Paris, of all places,” Mencheres replied. So what? Got something against the French? ↗

— Jeaniene Frost

#destined #early #grave #mencheres #paris

Dangerous as a lightning strike, as lethal as a pair of crisscrossing short swords, William whispered, “You’re about to find out how your liver tastes, my friend.” “I have tasted it already,” Zacharel said, his voice its usual monotone. The snowflakes began to fall in earnest, tiny at first, but growing in diameter. An arctic wind blustered around him. “It was a bit salty.” How the hell was a guy supposed to respond to that? Apparently William didn’t know, either, because he gaped at the angel. Then, “Maybe if you added a little pepper?” O-kay. It was official. William had an answer for everything. ↗

— Gena Showalter

#william-the-dark #zacharel #paris

Welcome to Paris, Anna. I'm glad you've come. ↗

— Stephanie Perkins

#british-boys #etienne-st-clair #romance #swoon #paris

Sienna, meet Zacharel. He's a warrior angel for the One, True Deity. Zacharel, meet Sienna. She's mine. ↗

— Gena Showalter

#sienna #zacharel #paris

That's Hot! ↗

— Paris Hilton

#celebutard #paris

Not knowing how he lost himself, or how he recovered himself, he may never feel certain of not losing himself again. ↗

— Charles Dickens

#psychology

His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend. His backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract. ↗

— William Shakespeare

#criticism #gossip #speech #gossip

The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. ↗

— Kate Chopin

#strength #anarchy