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

— Marie Rutkoski

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

— Marie Rutkoski

Her innocence was maddening. She should know. She should know what her steward had done. Furthermore, she should know it to be her fault whether she’d given the order or not–and whether she knew or not. Innocent? Her? Never. He did not want her to know. He did not want her to see. But:Look at me, he found himself thinking furiously at her. Look at me. She lifted her eyes, and did.

— Marie Rutkoski

He told himself a story. Not at first. At first, there wasn’t time for thoughts that came in the shape of words. His head was blessedly empty of stories then. War was coming. It was upon him. Akin had been born in the year of the god of death, and he was finally glad of it. He surrendered himself to his god, who smiled and came close. Stories will get you killed, he murmured in Akin’s ear. Now, you just listen. Listen to me.

— Marie Rutkoski

His dear face, dear to her, dearer still. How could she love his face more for its damage? What kind of person saw someone's suffering and felt her heart crack open even wider, even more sweetly than before? There was something wrong with her. It was wrong to want to touch a scar and call it beautiful.

— Marie Rutkoski

I can't - Kestrel, you must understand that I would never claim you. Calling you a prize - my prize - it was only words. But it worked. Cheat won't harm you, I swear that he won't, but you must...hide yourself a little. Help a little. Just tell us how much time we have before the battle. Give him a reason to decide you're not better off dead. Swallow your pride."" Maybe it's not as easy for me as it is for you." He wheeled on her. "It's not easy for me," "You know that it's not. What do you think I have had to swallow these past ten years? What do you think I have had to do to survive?"" Truly," she said, "I haven't the faintest interest. You may tell your sad story to someone else." He flinched as if slapped. His voice came low: "You can make people feel so small.

— Marie Rutkoski

It dropped ice to the bottom of his stomach. He thought of the ruined bodies he'd seen, including the ones he himself had ruined. He realized that he had somehow expected that he'd never have to think again about the way people damage other people. The night of the invasion. Kestrel's back. His own. Roshan's scarred face. His own.

— Marie Rutkoski

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

— Marie Rutkoski

It was wrong to want to touch a scar and call it beautiful.

— Marie Rutkoski

I want to know everything about you." So he told her. The stars, too, seemed to listen.

— Marie Rutkoski