Marie Rutkoski quotes: wise famous quotes, sayings and quotations by Marie Rutkoski

Marie Rutkoski Famous Quotes & Sayings

Discover top inspirational quotes from Marie Rutkoski on Wise Famous Quotes.

He knew the law of such things: people in brightly lit places cannot see into the dark.

Nothing in dreams can hurt you, her father had said - which was another way of saying that life can.

Happiness depends on being free, and freedom depends on being courageous.

Will you come with me?"
"Ah, Kestrel, that's something you never need to ask.

Just because you don't know something doesn't mean it's not true.

I have a confession," he said. "Sometimes I offend on purpose. It's like my smile."
"That's not an apology."
"Princes don't apologize.

Arin kept company with death, but death was not all that lived inside him.
A girl in his heart. In his home.
Waiting for him.

Arin would trade his heart for a snarled knot of thread if it meant he would never have to see Kestrel again.

She was learning to live around it.

You are your own best weapon. Kestrel

Truth was like an exploding star: violent, glitteringly beautiful. Now that I had seen it, felt it, it was impossible to settle for anything less.

In his mind, he said, Tell me what you want. And she said, Leave this city. She said, Take me with you.

Sometimes you think you want something," Arin told him, "when in reality you need to let it go.

Kestrel had bought a life, and loved it, and sold it.

A glass of wine in one's hand is rather like a jewel, isn't it, a large, liquid one?

I agree," Arin said, "under one condition. You mentioned emissaries. There will be one emissary from the empire. It will be you.

She'd wanted to put her fear inside a white box and give it to Arin. You, too, she would tell him. I fear for you. I fear for me if I lost you.

Temptation was the color white. It was black ink, quivering at the point of a pen's nib.

She had done everything she could. And he didn't even know.

Sometimes when the god is vexed or simply bored, she decides that the most beautiful thing is disaster.

His dark head bowed, became lost in its own shadow.

The world went luscious, and slow, and still.

Marry him," Arin said, "but be mine in secret.

She entered Roshar's tent. "I need your help." Blinking, he propped himself up on his bed. He said groggily, "And I need a real door. With a lock.

Where will you sleep?"
"Have no fear. Many a bed would welcome me.

Innocent? Her? Never.

She breathed in the cold, and it felt free, so she felt free, and it felt alive, so she felt alive.

Bones must be silent like this, Kestrel thought, when they lay deep in the earth.

The gods used to walk among us.
True, said death.
Why did you leave?
Ah, sweet child, it was your people who left us.

She felt suddenly light and sheer, as if this moment were encased in golden glass

Part of privilege is not having to look at ugly things.

You snored," Kestrel said. "I did not." "You did. You snored so loudly that the people in my dreams complained.

It occured to him that he might have to grow comfortable with happiness, because it might not abandon him this time.

Little Fists, what's wrong?

Isn't that what stories do, make real things fake, and fake things real?

You think you see the truth because people let you believe it. If you accuse a Herrani of a lie, do you think he will dare deny it?

You are important to me, she said, and touched his face. Important. The word swelled and deflated. More than he'd thought. Less than he wanted.

If you don't wanna be my friend , you'll regret be my enemy !!
the winner's curse

It was a sin to break a deathbed promise.
Arin left without making one.

Arin's god slapped him across the face. Pay attention, death demanded. Arin did, and after that, no one could touch him. When

Kestrel could read an expression as if looking through shifting water to see the grainy bottom, the silt rising or settling, the dart of a fish.

You might not think of me as your friend,' Kestrel told Arin, 'but I think of you as mine.

A slow fear, heavy, like sadness ... which made her realize that her fear was a kind of sadness, because she couldn't be better than her fear.

Couldn't tell if the truth looked like a lie, or a lie the truth.

How could she have forgotten what this was like, to burn on a fuse before him?

She could've slept then. She wanted to. Sleep was blind, it was deaf, and it would take her away from this room and these men.

The god of lies must love you, you see things so clearly.

She saw him and didn't understand how she had ever missed his beauty. How it didn't always strike her as it did now, like a blow.

The truth can sometimes sound like a lie because we're too afraid to believe it.

The Winner's Curse is when you come out on top of the bid, but only by paying a steep price.

It's best to recognize the things one cannot change.

husk of a vanished person.

A dagger wants flesh, her father would say. Find it.

In the morning, when Roshar saw their faces he rolled his eyes. "I want my tent back," he said. Kestrel laughed. *

Arin wished Roshar wouldn't do this, wouldn't slip on false arrogance as if it were mourning garb worn in the service of a joke.

He knew how it was to have no family: like living in a house with no roof.

Looks like someone's suffering the Winner's Curse.

The reason you enjoy my company is because I look like how you feel.

People in brightly lit places can't see into the dark.

Arin smiled. It was a true smile, which let her know that all the others he had given her were not.

How can you interpret the behavior of others when you're a mystery to yourself?

What could you say about someone who walked daily into his grief and lived at the bottom of its hole and didn't even want to come out?

Stories will get you killed.

Nothing in dreams can hurt you.

When you're a stranger to people you care about, you become a stranger to yourself.

Let the morning keep what belongs to the morning,

My mother had been blind as a child. And so, blindness was something that has long fascinated me, but also it's something I find really, really scary.

I pretty much always wanted to write a series, because I love reading them.

When she saw the opportunity to flee, she would take it. She would bring the hounds of the empire howling down on this city.

He struggled, knuckled his eyes, and let the words come. I want you to be mine, wholly mine, your heart, too. I want you to feel the same way.

My soul is yours," he said. "You know that it is.

No, Arin. Sit down. Other wise you'll make an ass out of yourself, and that role is mine.

The general's daughter? We'd be fools not to. You talk about her as if she's made of spun glass. Know what I see? Steel.

Music made her feel as if she were holding a lamp that cast a halo of light around her,

Her blood felt laced with black powder. How could she have forgotten what it was like to burn on a fuse before him?

Before - for years - she had let her mind close seamlessly, like an egg, around this wrong and other wrongs.

He'd believed it. She couldn't believe that he believed it. Sometimes, she hated him for that.

Arin, who had set hooks into her heart and drawn her to him so that she wouldn't see anything but his eyes.
Arin was her enemy

He wondered if he, too, was tempted by cunning. Maybe he was drawn as well to the biggest gamble.

Go away, little ghost. Go haunt someone else.

Once, he'd hated her for it. Then it had somehow touched him. He knew it himself. he, too, felt how the heart chooses its own home and refuses reason.

A lover? Maybe. Something tender, anyway. But tender like a bruise.

You haven't asked me about Arin," Roshar said as he rode alongside him.
"What?"
"The tiger. Not the surly human.

It was different to give something up than to see it taken away. The difference, Kestrel said, was choice.

It was the kind of knowledge that, once it enters you, seems like it's lived there forever.

Her fierce creature of a mind: sleek and sharp-clawed and utterly unwilling to be caught.

So you give me nothing."
"When have I ever given you anything?"
Softly, Arin said, "You gave me much, once.

I won't play you because even when I win, I lose. It's never been just a game between us.

The house burst into being. It

It was the horror of someone who'd been dealt a winning hand, had bet her life on the game, and then proceeded (deliberately?) to lose.

Yet he understood that there are some things you feel and others that you choose to feel, and that the choice doesn't make the feeling less valid.

Isn't that what stories do, make fake things real, and real things fake?

The sky was a feather blanket of clouds, save for one blue hole in the fabric. A blue cloud in a white sky.

He hadn't been blessed by the god of death.
Arin was the god.

I'm going to miss you when I wake up.

Arin thought of Cheat, Tensen, Kestrel. He wondered if some part of him was drawn to lies. What was it that made him so easy to deceive?

She focused on that nothingness, imagined it as ink spilling over everything she could possibly think or feel.

In war, her father sometimes said, you might live, you might die. But if you panic, death is the only outcome.

I'm the sort of person who would be perfectly happy spending an entire day in a rare books room.

I don't mind being a moth. I would probably start eating silk if it meant that I could fly.