Oh soldier, how did we come to such a place? — Thea Harrison, Midnight's Kiss
Oh soldier, how did we come to such a place? — Thea Harrison, Midnight's Kiss
Oh soldier, how did we come to such a place? — Thea Harrison, Midnight's Kiss
Oh soldier, how did we come to such a place? — Thea Harrison, Midnight's Kiss
Oh soldier, how did we come to such a place? — Thea Harrison, Midnight's Kiss
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Oh soldier, how did we come to such a place?

— Thea Harrison, Midnight's Kiss
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More “Fae” Quotes

Love and hate had their own secret languages, and Mark and Kieran were speaking in them now. — Cassandra Clare, Lady Midnight
Why does IPCA use them if they’re evil?” he asked, confused.“They aren’t evil. They aren’t even really immoral, per se. — Kiersten White, Paranormalcy
Why, you'll be 'changed, m'dear. We'll just swap you for a human child who'll make a good servant to the Band. Half Huma — Eloise Jarvis McGraw
You both talk too much,” the kid says. “Shut up. Don’t make me tell you again.”We shut up, which I find hysterically fun — Karen Marie Moning, Iced
If she was beautiful at rest she was doubly so awake. Asleep she was a painting of a fire. Awake she was the fire itself — Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man's Fear
That day and night, the bleeding and the screaming, had knocked something askew for Esme, like a picture swinging crooke — Laini Taylor, Lips Touch: Three Times
I used to think that size does not count, until I realized that most people either find other people’s faeces more disgu — Mokokoma Mokhonoana
Humph,' he said, with a disagreeable air, 'the universe does its work very quietly.' (“The Bogey Man”) — A.E. Coppard, Dusky Ruth: And Other Stories
He put his forehead against hers. “Alannah, my heart is yours.” He said softly.“And yet, I must hand it over to someone — B.C. Morin, Blood of the Sorcerer
This letter is written on the skin of one of the water sprites who drowned your parents.''Ick!' I cried, and dropped the — Charlaine Harris, Dead in the Family
I have a simple philosophy: Fill what's empty. Empty what's full. Scratch where it itches." by Alice Roosevelt Longworth — Claudy Conn, Spellbound
The boughs of trees stretched high overhead, leaves of dappled green and black mottling the sky. It was called the black — Mara Amberly, Her Gypsy Promise: A Short Story