Цитаты из книги Злой король

Someone tries to betray the High King, murder. Someone gives you a harsh look, murder. Someone disrespects you, murder. Someone ruins your laundry, murder.

They missed.

If he thought I was bad, I would be worse. If he thought I was cruel, I would be horrifying.

I hate you," I breathed into his mouth. "I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.

Pain makes you strong, Madoc once told me, making me lift a sword again and again. Get used to the weight.

Yes, my great villan, my darling god. I will be as sober as a stone carving, just as soon as I can.

The point of a fight is not to have a good fight, it’s to win.

You must be strong enough to strike and strike and strike again without tiring. The first lesson is to make yourself that strong.

I wasn't kind, Jude. Not to many people. Not to you. I wasn't sure if I wanted you or if I wanted you gone from my sight so that I would stop feeling as I did, which made me even more unkind. But when you were gone—truly gone beneath the waves—I hated myself as I never have before.

And the single last thing in my head: that I like him better than I've ever liked anyone and that of all the things he's ever done to me, making me like him so much is by far the worst.

The disturbing thing about Cardan is how well he plays the fool to disguise his own cleverness.

We would be surprised to find that,.

Once upon a time, there was a human girl stolen away by faeries, and because of that, she swore to destroy them.

The Folk doubtlessly learned this lesson long ago. They do not need to deceive humans. Humans will deceive themselves.

Watching my back is the perfect opportunity to stick a knife in it.

Look at them all, your subjects. A shame not a one knows who their true ruler is.

I have said that he has the power to deliver a compliment and make it hurt. So, too, he can say something that ought to be insulting and deliver it in such a way that it feels like being truly seen.

I have heard that for mortals, the feeling of falling in love is very like the feeling of fear. Your heart beats fast. Your senses are heightened. You grow light-headed, maybe even dizzy.

I’ve wanted this and feared it, and now that it’s happening, I don’t know how I will ever want anything else.

It was good to be hugged. Even by a monster.

There are no real answers, Jude. Why was I cruel to Folk? Why was I awful to you? Because I could be. Because I liked it. Because, for a moment, when I was at my worst, I felt powerful, and most of the time, I felt powerless, despite being a prince and the son of the High King of Faerie.

Become the Queen of Elfhame.

I kissed him on the mouth, and then I threatened to kiss him some more if he didn't do exactly what I wanted.

If wishes were horses, my mortal father used to say, beggars would ride.

Legends need not concern themselves with something as small as happiness.

It occurs to me that maybe desire isn't something overindulging helps. Maybe it is not unlike mithridatism; maybe I took a killing dose when I should have been poisoning myself slowly, one kiss at a time.

For now, accept this delight, unworthy though it is for the Queen of Faerie in exile.

He kisses the scar of my palm. I still have his brother’s blood under my fingernails. I don’t have a ring for him. Above us, the buds are blooming. The whole room smells of flowers.

A king is a living symbol, a beating heart, a star upon which Elfhame's future is written. Surely you have noticed that since his reign began, the isles are different. Storms come in faster. Colors are a bit more vivid, smells are sharper.... When he becomes drunk, his subjects becomes tipsy without knowing why. When his blood falls, things grow.

I want to have some reaction. I want to tremble or feel nauseated. I want to be the person who begins to weep. I want to be anyone but the person I am, who looks around to be sure no one saw, who wipes off my knife in the dirt, wipes off my hand on his clothes, and gets out of there before the guards come.

I remember what it was to hate him with the whole of my heart, but I’ve remembered too late.

But what if I actually am becoming besotted with him? Cardan is more knowledgeable than I am at love. He could use that against me, just as I asked him to use it against Nicasia. Perhaps he found a way to turn the tables after all. Kill him, a part of me says, a part I remember from the night I took him captive. Kill him before he makes you love him.

Since I fear she is right.

Revenge is sweet, but ice cream is sweeter.

They missed.

I was only giving him what he wanted. After all, if he didn’t want to be eviscerated, he would have honored my very reasonable request.

We would be surprised to find that,.

Someone tries to betray the High King, murder. Someone gives you a harsh look, murder. Someone disrespects you, murder. Someone ruins your laundry, murder.

Better she never be a bride than wind up a widow.

I concentrate on what I am going to say to Vivi, instead of thinking of Cardan. I do not want to consider what happened between us. I do not want to think about the way his muscles moved or how his skin felt or the soft gasping sounds he made or the slide of his mouth against mine. I definitely don’t want to think about how hard I had to bite my own lip to keep quiet. Or how obvious it was that I’d never done any of the things we did, no less the things we didn’t do.

Rules are different for poets.

Yeah, Cardan should definitely trust you more. You seem really trustworthy. It's not like you're actually currently betraying him.

Just because I am bitter about romance doesn't mean everyone else needs to be.

Sometimes lying is a real pleasure.

I hope it unnerves them to know that I am lying. After all, if the insult to me is pointing out that I am mortal, then this is my riposte: I live here, too, and I know the rules. Perhaps I even know them better than you since you were born into them, but I had to learn. Perhaps I know them better than you because you have greater leeway to break them.

only under the water can I allow myself to weep. Only under the water can I admit that I almost died and that I was terrified and that I wish there was someone to whom I could tell all that.

I still feel the warm pressure of his fingers against my skin. Something is really wrong with me, to want what I hate, to want someone who despises me, even if he wants me, too. My only comfort is that he doesn’t know what I feel.

The fervent prayer of many,.

Each of you will have a chance to play it, and whosoever plays most sweetly, you will have it. For art is more than virtue or vice.

I need to make her realize that even terrible memories are better than weird gaps or the hollowness of your feelings not making sense.

He looks at me and blinks, as through a fog. "This is an absolutely terrible idea," he says with a kind of amazement in his voice. "Yes," I tell him, kicking off my boots. -Cardan and Jude.

Yes, my sweet villain, my darling god. I will be as sober as a stone carving, just as soon as I can.

Most of all, I hate you because I think of you.

So much of winning is waiting. The other part, though, is taking the shot when it comes. Unleashing all that momentum.

I hate that he knows what he’s doing and I don’t. I hate being vulnerable. I hate that I throw my head back, baring my throat. I hate the way I cling to him, the nails of one hand digging into his back, my thoughts splintering, and the single last thing in my head: that I like him better than I’ve ever liked anyone and that of all the things he’s ever done to me, making me like him so much is by far the worst.