So John took out of his pocket A knife both long and sharp, And stuck it through his brother's heart, And the blood came pouring down. Says John to William, "Take off thy shirt, And tear it from gore to gore, And wrap it round your bleeding heart, And the blood will pour no more.

For a split second longer she stood motionless. Then, somehow, she had caught at the front of his shirt and pulled him toward her. His arms went around her, lifting her almost out of her sandals, and then he was kissing her—or she was kissing him, she wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter. The feel of his mouth on hers was electric; her hands gripped his arms, pulling him hard against her. The feel of his heart pounding through his shirt made her dizzy with joy. No one else’s heart beat like Jace’s did, or ever could.

Appearances are significant, and never more than in politics. You can always sway the crowd, provided you have a good story.

Let me give you a piece of advice. The handsome young fellow who's trying to rescue you from a hideous fate is never wrong. Not even if he says the sky is purple and made of hedgehogs.

You left me. You made a pet out of me, and then you left me. If love were food, I would have starved on the bones you gave me.

Goodness," Tessa said to the back of his head. "If you keep seeing Six-Fingered Nigel like this, he'll expect you to declare your intentions.

The past is nothing to [the young], not even another country as it is to the old, or even a nightmare as it is to the guilty.