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Crooked Kingdom
“She smiled then, her eyes red, her cheeks scattered with some kind of dust. It was a smile he thought he might die to earn again.”
Leigh Bardugo
Crooked Kingdom
Inej
Kaz
Kaz Brekker
Inej Ghafa
Six Of Crows
Brekker
Ghafa
Crooked Kingdom
“In his brief time as a student, he'd fallen in love with the Boeksplein. Jesper had never been a great reader. He loved stories, but he hated sitting still, and the books assigned to him for school seemed designed to make his mind wander. At the Boeksplein, wherever his eyes strayed, there was something to occupy them; leaded windows with stained-glass borders, iron gates worked in to figures of books and ships, the central fountain with its bearded scholar, and best of all, the gargoyles- bat-winged grotesques in mortarboard caps, and stone dragons falling asleep over books. He liked to think that whoever had built this place had known not all students were suited to quite contemplation.”
Leigh Bardugo
Libraries
Library
Crooked Kingdom
Jesper
Jesper Fahey
Six Of Crows
Boeksplein
“The mirror is a worthless invention. The only way to truly see yourself is in the reflection of someone else's eyes.”
Reflection
Eyes
Seeing
Mirror
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
“You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago- the precise date is uncertain- by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."
He paused, gazed blearily around the room, and continued.
"For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more
selective
about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."
Professor Binns paused again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise.
"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing.
Slytherin, according to legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic.”
Hogwarts
Heir
Slytherin
Chamber Of Secrets
Salazar
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
“She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes-
her eyes are just like mine
, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green- exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Harry's did.
Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.
"Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?"
They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees- Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life.
The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.”
Family
Parents
Bittersweet
Harry Potter
James Potter
Mirror
Hearts Desire
Lily Potter
Potters
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
“I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."
Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.
"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it- it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.”
James Potter
Chosen
Lily Potter
Wands
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
“The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons- All Sizes- Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver- Self-Stirring- Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.
"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."
Harry wished he had about eight more eyes. He turned his head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad...."
A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium- Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys about Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand- fastest ever-" There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon....”
Owls
Cauldron
Shops
Diagon Alley
Magic Shops
Sugar
“Seven extra grams of grated nutmeg makes all the difference. Best cinnamon-streusel pumpkin muffin ever. Or at least so far." I opened my eyes, making a slow assessment of my kitchen. Four other batches of pumpkin muffins littered the countertop, many of them on their sides after I took one bite and impatiently tossed them aside. This batch, the fifth, was the queen of the bunch.
"I do have some reservations about the pecans." My fluffy panda-head slippers slapped on the wood floors as I walked back to the oven. Holding my butter-smudged working recipe up to the light, I considered the next round of alterations. "I wonder about almonds. Or no! Pistachios!”
Pumpkin
Experimenting
Nuts
Muffins
Seasonings
The Nonesuch
“Their eyes met, both pairs grey, hers very cool and clear, his faintly smiling...”
Attraction
Regency
Grey Eyes In Heyer
Hard Times
“The factory-bells had need to ring their loudest that morning to disperse the groups of workers who stood in the tardy daybreak, collected round the placards [wanted posters], devouring them with eager eyes. Not the least eager of the eyes assembled, were the eyes of those who could not read. These people, as they listened to the friendly voice that read aloud--there was always some such ready to help them--stared at the characters which meant so much with a vague awe and respect that would have been half ludicrous, if any aspect of public ignorance could ever be otherwise than threatening and full of evil.”
Reading
Ignorance
Violence
Crowd
Literacy
Mob Mentality
Ignorance Of People
Hades' Daughter
“I get a glimpse of the demon’s monstrous face as his beady, red eyes widen in surprise. A demon often looks like a human. However, when they attack, their face transforms; their eyes look like they’re catching fire, and they grow fangs. The same happens to me, but I get a pair of horns too, like a tiara.”
Greek Mythology
Paranormal Romance
Devil
Demons
War Of Fate
“You might have seen God in the photos, you might have seen God in the dreams, you might have seen God in the temples, you might have heard about God in the stories, have seen God in real? See me.
If I shall touch you, you shall open your eyes in your next birth”
God Quotes
Real Gods
Gods Rage
Next Birth
The Mummy Case
“...no eyes but mine will read these words. Why, then, the gentle Reader will ask, do I infer his or her existence by addressing her, or him? The answer should be obvious. Art cannot exist in a vacuum. The creative spirit must possess an audience. It is impossible for a writer to do herself justice if she is only talking to herself.”
Art
Amelia Peabody
The Mummy Case
The Tyrant’s Tomb
“Meg slashed through the last of Tarquin’s minions. That was a good thing, I thought distantly. I didn’t want her to die, too. Hazel stabbed Tarquin in the chest. The Roman king fell, howling in pain, ripping the sword hilt from Hazel’s grip. He collapsed against the information desk, clutching the blade with his skeletal hands.
Hazel stepped back, waiting for the zombie king to dissolve. Instead, Tarquin struggled to his feet, purple gas flickering weakly in his eye sockets.
“I have lived for millennia,” he snarled. “You could not kill me with a thousand tons of stone, Hazel Levesque. You will not kill me with a sword.”
I thought Hazel might fly at him and rip his skull off with her bare hands. Her rage was so palpable I could smell it like an approaching storm. Wait…I did smell an approaching storm, along with other forest scents: pine needles, morning dew on wildflowers, the breath of hunting dogs.
A large silver wolf licked my face. Lupa? A hallucination? No…a whole pack of the beasts had trotted into the store and were now sniffing the bookshelves and the piles of zombie dust.
Behind them, in the doorway, stood a girl who looked about twelve, her eyes silver-yellow, her auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was dressed for the hunt in a shimmering gray frock and leggings, a white bow in her hand. Her face was beautiful, serene, and as cold as the winter moon.
She nocked a silver arrow and met Hazel’s eyes, asking permission to finish her kill. Hazel nodded and stepped aside. The young girl aimed at Tarquin.
“Foul undead thing,” she said, her voice hard and bright with power. “When a good woman puts you down, you had best stay down.”
Her arrow lodged in the center of Tarquin’s forehead, splitting his frontal bone. The king stiffened. The tendrils of purple gas sputtered and dissipated. From the arrow’s point of entry, a ripple of fire the color of Christmas tinsel spread across Tarquin’s skull and down his body, disintegrating him utterly. His gold crown, the silver arrow, and Hazel’s sword all dropped to the floor.
I grinned at the newcomer. “Hey, Sis.”
Apollo
Hazel Levesque
Diana
Meg Mccaffrey
Tarquin
Lester Papadopoulos
The Tyrant’s Tomb
“Reyna said, swinging her sword again. “Something they’ll hate worse than Apollo.” Her eyes lit up. “Apollo, sing for them!”
She might as well have kicked me in the face again. “My voice isn’t that bad!”
“But you’re the—You used to be the god of music, right? If you can charm a crowd, you should be able to repulse one. Pick a song these birds will hate!”
Great. Not only had Reyna laughed in my face and busted my nose, now I was her go-to guy for repulsiveness.”
Apollo
Reyna Avila Ramírez Arellano
Lester Papadopoulos
The Tyrant’s Tomb
“So,” I said, making a second attempt at nonchalance, “are you and Thalia, er…?”
Reyna raised an eyebrow. “Involved romantically?”
“Well, I just…I mean…Um…”
Oh, very smooth, Apollo. Have I mentioned I was once the god of poetry?
Reyna rolled her eyes. “If I had a denarius for every time I got that question…Aside from the fact that Thalia is in the Hunters, and thus sworn to celibacy…Why does a strong friendship always have to progress to romance? Thalia’s an excellent friend. Why would I risk messing that up?”
“Uh—”
“That was a rhetorical question,” Reyna added. “I do not need a response.”
“I know what rhetorical means.” I made a mental note to double-check the word’s definition with Socrates the next time I was in Greece.”
Friendship
Romance
Apollo
Reyna Avila Ramírez Arellano
Thalia Grace
Lester Papadopoulos
Hunters Of Artemis
Rehetoric
The Arrangement
“From a long board, he watched her rake a pile into the stockpot: tomatoes and garlic, orange peel and bay, the heads and spines and tails of a dozen sardines. She plunged a knife into a spider crab and split it in two, tossing it after. She hadn't noticed Al standing behind her.
He cleared his throat, and she swung around.
"Oh, goodness," she said.
"You've been busy."
She held to his face a mortar of green pounded herbs and garlic, a rouille so sharp it made his eyes water. And then a hard loaf of bread, white fish steaks translucent as china; she put a salted almond in his mouth, a crust dipped into the stockpot, her finger. She was giddy, beautiful, his wife.
She poured the stock through a strainer, pressing on the bones and shells with the back of a wooden spoon. She poached the fish steaks, some tiny rings and tangles of squid, picking out the mussels as they opened; she toasted bread; she warmed a Delft tureen with boiling water. She set the table, handing a cold bottle of white wine from the refrigerator and a corkscrew to him.
"There's so much in this kitchen," she whispered.
"Is Gigi here?"
"No, not ever, I don't think. But she's got every kind of gadget. Look at this. Do you know what this is?" She held up a Bakelite-handled comb with a dozen tines.
Al waited.
"It's for slicing cake," she said.”
Cooking
Seafood
Utensil
Mfk Fisher
The Arrangement
“The market smelled of hay and roasted nuts; she bought a newspaper cone of almonds from a woman stirring them over an open fire. She bought thick sandy leeks, a rope of garlic and a pound of tomatoes; she bought a long
batard
of sourdough bread, a dozen bluish speckled eggs, a jar of cream, because now she had a refrigerator and could keep such things for more than an hour or two. She lifted the paper lid of the cream and tasted it, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand; she remembered the pillowy clouds of Gruyère grated onto her piece of waxed paper at Les Halles, the cheese maker young and handsome and milk-fed himself; he tried to teach her the French for being in love with him:
mon cocotte, mon chouchou, ma petit lapin, Madame, s'il vous plaît
.
She walked the stalls, and on the edge of the market, a fishmonger laid out his catch on two blocks of ice: strange curled squids and spider crabs, silvery piles of sardines, their eyes still sparkling, thick slabs of some white-meated fish, its head as big as a dinner plate.”
French
Seafood
French Food
Farmers Market
Mfk Fisher
Illuminae
“I'll keep your secrets. Shut my mouth. But I can't shut my eyes.”
Secrets
Illuminae
Amie Kaufman
Mgg
Jay Kristoff
The Illuminae Files
A Better Man
“I see." Gamache lowered his voice, though all could still hear the words. "When I was Chief Superintendent, I had a framed poster in my office. On it were the last words of a favorite poet, Seamus Heaney. Noli timere. It's Latin. Do you know what it means?"
He looked around the room.
"Neither did I," he admitted when no one spoke. "I had to look it up. It means 'Be Not Afraid.' His eyes returned to the unhappy young agent. "In this job you'll have to do things that scare you. You might be afraid, but you must be brave. When I ask you to do something, you must trust there's a good reason. And I need to trust that you will do it. D'accord?”
Gamache
Noli Timere
The Magic Christmas Ornament
“It was the most beautiful but curious, ornament I had ever seen. I couldn't take my eyes off it.”
Magic
Christmas
Holidays
Christmas Tree
Christmas Ornament
Inn Lak'ech
“She was a thinner, prettier version of her mother with huge sea-green eyes and straight, long hair the color of golden copper. She hadn’t made peace with her small breasts, huge flat feet or the freckles that spilled across her pert nose but Glorie said she was nice-looking enough to have modeled for any one of the mermaid prints that hung on the walls.”
Mermaid
Elm Sunday
Inn Lak Ech
The Whole World Over
“Darling,’ when Charlie said it, felt like a whirlpool of rapture. Whenever Greenie answered the phone, he would say just that word, and Greenie would say ‘You,’ which was her way of expressing that he was now the world to her, that he was the one for whom she was always waiting, that he was the high cliff on which she was happy to stand and from which she had come to realize she might, at any moment, jump. Jump with open eyes and outspread arms.”
Joy Of Loving
“Chapter Six: Mistress of Red
From underneath from hellish bowels,
She lives the torment she shrieks and howls.
A damned flame of volcanic intent,
Seeks a city where her hatred may vent.
Underneath the bow of vaulted earth,
This spirit breaks from infernoed perch.
Circles the span of inward woe,
From beneath the caverns does she go.
She seeks the city she may destroy,
To lie in ruins for her ploy.
From lofty plume of sordid ash,
She delights to see her cuts and gash.
Vulcania Draconis, spirit of bitter ’ire,
Rings the earth with her dredful fires.
Horrendous demon from Vulcan’s forge,
Lays waste to the earth, her inhabitants engorged.
Mighty Pompeii knew her ways,
Scoffed at her threats and would not pay.
In vindiction’s rage hissed she their doom,
Cast them alive within their tombs.
And Krakatoa and Mycenae,
They would not yield, she laid them waste.
An extortioness, royal supreme,
To conquer or destroy, her consummate dream.
How this evil one sets her pace,
Rings sweet earth in her death’s nec-lace.
Far from below she blasts her smoke,
To cover their eyes until they choke.
At her command cities fall and swell,
Earthquake, tidal wave, gives masses to hell.
This spirit from the blackest pit,
Broods deep on those she kiss.
She comes to seek those to enslave,
To fuel her bowels, her booty in trade.
The pride and ruination of nations and men,
Seeks souls and bodies to ambition her ends.
Now this licking creature of red-hot glow,
Sends her heat to make fumerals.
Damns the many and damns the one,
As empires burn when her rage is done.
A vengeful spirit, Draconis is,
Smiles so pleasant as victims drop in.
Opens her shotted eyes in mirth,
To hear the screams of their heated death lurch.
This diabolic holds much potent sway,
Seeks for victims as ground gives way.
She holds the riddle to the land,
And holds it she must for her time is at hand.
Had learned she now that Kari had come,
That timeless conflict again begun.
“Never did I see one I could not coerce,
But now a convolcation of power, a tour de force.”
Suppressed regret ruminated throughout,
Yet shreds of fear left no doubt.
“I will finish what was started here in mmy land,
Beyond records treatise once we did stand.
Past all memories, hmm, even so,
Before myth began and Rome’s trumpets blowed.
I will shatter her like earthenware because I mmust,
She tasks mme this creature, mmy hate it is just.
Wounded mme she did, her preysence calls,
If nothing else, ha I will hurt her if I faullt.”
On Vulcania Draconis, Kari's Diabolical Enemy
Cold Steel Eternity Vol. ii”
Poetry
Meditation
Heroine
Drama
Martial Arts
Action Adventure
Valkyries
“Chapter One: The Dawn and the Dread
Heartbeat, heartbeat comes from Valhallan way,
To meet down in judgment, to ply its trade.
Two →swords← to join in worthy cross,
Actions to be rendered, one to be lost.
She did come now from ’yond northern slope,
A day of reckoning did she again once hope.
A devout meeting was her qwesterly bane,
To stay her hand was to go insane.
St. Kari of the Blade to meet her past,
A wicked enemy, peerless of match.
Rode Kari she her charger on down,
Past the Dead Land where Gaul sat crowned.
A killing job, yea, she desired to lastly kill,
To set things right so her heart might lie still.
Upon the mist and roaring plain,
She entered in, a soul uncontained.
A fierce wind in deed, and forever freed,
Enemies she annihilhates (’tis hur’ creed).
Her own advanced guard of a sort,
Multitudes to follow in her report.
Know this Valkyrie from on cold,
An ancient maiden soft and bold.
A warrior spirit from Ages past,
A fragmented mind like broken glass.
Solid in stature this eternal framed being,
Yet crippled within from internaled bleedings.
A sword saint so refined in the poetic art,
A noble character yet with a banshee’s heart.
Rhythmed horse now to the beats,
Kari emboldened amid the sleet.
Beyond the mountain she does come,
Unto southern fields wherein rules hot sun.
Far from that murderous Deadlands ground,
The land up swells; the dead still abound.
Traverses she those bygones of leprous civilizations
Those cities crumbled by the exhalted of oblivions.
Stark traces etched now bare in the land,
That are no more again, save dust in the hand.
A cool stream now in desert sans
(Does more good when one is damned).
Stopped she her mount to admire the flow,
A lovely stream with skeletons packed below.
Blue air whisps; dragon flied motion.
Flintsteel striking!!! Sparked of commotion.
Cold water chortles rushtish with tint,
Told of past carnage, it whetted her glint.
Fallen warriors, they are no more,
Swirls and eddies mark their discord.
Gurgled shouts slung and gathered,
Faces glazed while steel lathered.
Refreshing though it was to her mouth,
She smelled an air; she flared about.
Came up that ridge of loud, sanded hill,
Below a man and his half-score of kills.
Kari’s eyes waxed in smug contempt,
Possibilities ran deep with no repent . . .
On Kari, Valkyrie, Cold Steel Eternity Vol. II”
Spirituality
Fantasy
Heroine
Drama
Ghosts
Epic Poetry
Valkyries
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