Oak Quotes
Quotes tagged as "oak"
Showing 121-150 of 174
“Who calls at Habetrot's chamber?' comes a whispery voice.
Oak raises his eyebrows at me, as though he intends me to answer.
Fine, if that's what he wants. 'Suren, whose garb has been deemed inadequate by an obnoxious prince, despite the fact I've seen people go naked to revels.'
Rather than be insulted, Oak laughs delightedly.”
― The Stolen Heir
Oak raises his eyebrows at me, as though he intends me to answer.
Fine, if that's what he wants. 'Suren, whose garb has been deemed inadequate by an obnoxious prince, despite the fact I've seen people go naked to revels.'
Rather than be insulted, Oak laughs delightedly.”
― The Stolen Heir
“I take the comb from a pocket of my new dress and then hesitate. If I begin to untangle my nimbus of snarls, he will see how badly my hair is matted and be reminded of where he found me.
He stands.
Good. He will leave, and then I will be able to wrangle my hair alone.
But instead he steps behind me and takes the comb from my hands. 'Let me do that,' he says, taking strands of my hair in his fingers. 'It's the colour of primroses.'
My shoulders tense. I am unused to people touching me. 'You don't need to-' I start.
'It's no trouble,' he says. 'I had three older sisters brushing and braiding mine, no matter how I howled. I had to learn to do theirs, in self-defence. And my mother...'
His fingers are clever. He holds each lock at the base, slowly teasing out the knots at the very end and then working backward to the scalp. Under his hands, it becomes smooth ribbons. If I had done this, I would have yanked half of it out in frustration.
'Your mother...,' I echo, prompting him to continue in a voice that shakes only a little.
He begins to braid, sweeping my hair up so that thick plaits become something like his circlet, wrapping around my head.
'When we were in the mortal world, away from her servants, she needed help arranging it.' His voice is soft.
This, along with the slightly painful pull against my scalp, the brush of his fingertips against my neck as he separates a section, the slight frown of concentration on his face, is overwhelming. I am not accustomed to someone being this close.
When I look up, his smile is all invitation.
We are no longer children, playing games and hiding beneath his bed, but I feel as though this is a different kind of game, one where I do not understand the rules.
With a shiver, I take up the mirror from the dresser. In this hair, and with this dress, I look pretty. The kind of pretty that allows monsters to deceive people into forests, into dances where they will find their doom.”
― The Stolen Heir
He stands.
Good. He will leave, and then I will be able to wrangle my hair alone.
But instead he steps behind me and takes the comb from my hands. 'Let me do that,' he says, taking strands of my hair in his fingers. 'It's the colour of primroses.'
My shoulders tense. I am unused to people touching me. 'You don't need to-' I start.
'It's no trouble,' he says. 'I had three older sisters brushing and braiding mine, no matter how I howled. I had to learn to do theirs, in self-defence. And my mother...'
His fingers are clever. He holds each lock at the base, slowly teasing out the knots at the very end and then working backward to the scalp. Under his hands, it becomes smooth ribbons. If I had done this, I would have yanked half of it out in frustration.
'Your mother...,' I echo, prompting him to continue in a voice that shakes only a little.
He begins to braid, sweeping my hair up so that thick plaits become something like his circlet, wrapping around my head.
'When we were in the mortal world, away from her servants, she needed help arranging it.' His voice is soft.
This, along with the slightly painful pull against my scalp, the brush of his fingertips against my neck as he separates a section, the slight frown of concentration on his face, is overwhelming. I am not accustomed to someone being this close.
When I look up, his smile is all invitation.
We are no longer children, playing games and hiding beneath his bed, but I feel as though this is a different kind of game, one where I do not understand the rules.
With a shiver, I take up the mirror from the dresser. In this hair, and with this dress, I look pretty. The kind of pretty that allows monsters to deceive people into forests, into dances where they will find their doom.”
― The Stolen Heir
“You can't help trying to charm every snake you come upon, no matter how cold-blooded or vicious. Let that one be.”
― The Stolen Heir
― The Stolen Heir
“The money,' I ask. 'Was it real?'
'Oh, yes,' the Prince confirms. 'My sister would be wroth with us otherwise.'
'Wroth.' I echo the archaic word, although I know what it means. Pissed off.
'Super wroth,' he says with a grin.”
― The Stolen Heir
'Oh, yes,' the Prince confirms. 'My sister would be wroth with us otherwise.'
'Wroth.' I echo the archaic word, although I know what it means. Pissed off.
'Super wroth,' he says with a grin.”
― The Stolen Heir
“His smile dimmed, and he dropped his voice to a whisper. 'This is a real secret. You can't tell anyone. When I was little, I glamoured my mortal sister. I made her hit herself, a lot of times, over and over, and I laughed while she did. It was awful of me, and I never told her that I regretted it. I am afraid of making her remember. She might get really mad.”
― The Stolen Heir
― The Stolen Heir
“Have you ridden before?' he asks me, and I return him the look he deserves.
...
'No? And yet you would look so well with your hair whipping behind you.' Oak says. 'Wild as the Folk of old.”
― The Stolen Heir
...
'No? And yet you would look so well with your hair whipping behind you.' Oak says. 'Wild as the Folk of old.”
― The Stolen Heir
“Isn't that sweet?' Hyacinthe says, the first words I've heard him speak. 'Riding your sister's horse into battle. Have you anything of your own, prince? Or just girls' castoffs and scraps?”
― The Stolen Heir
― The Stolen Heir
“There are rumours that Cardan never wanted the throne, that he will hand it over to Oak willingly at some vague future time. But when I think of High King Cardan with his black curls and cruel mouth, the way he behaves- silly and dangersome all at once- I don't believe he would relinquish power. He might, however, trick Oak into going on a quest he wouldn't return from. Build him up with stories of honour and valiant deeds.”
― The Stolen Heir
― The Stolen Heir
“Oak makes a low moan and tries to sit up. 'Jude,' he mutters. 'Jude, we can't just let him die.”
― The Stolen Heir
― The Stolen Heir
“The prince opens his tawny fox eyes and looks around. When he sees me, he slumps back down, as though relieved that I am still here.”
― The Stolen Heir
― The Stolen Heir
“I'm fine,' Oak says, sliding off the horse and immediately collapsing onto the asphalt.
'Fine?' the knight echoes, eyebrows raised.
'I couldn't say it if it wasn't true,' says the prince, and manages to stagger to his feet. He leans heavily on a nearby car.”
― The Stolen Heir
'Fine?' the knight echoes, eyebrows raised.
'I couldn't say it if it wasn't true,' says the prince, and manages to stagger to his feet. He leans heavily on a nearby car.”
― The Stolen Heir
“We learned something of her capabilities.'
'And you want me to tell you that was worth you being poisoned?' the knight demands.
'I'm always being poisoned. Alas, that it wasn't blusher mushroom,' the prince said nonsensically.
Tiernan nods his chin at me. 'That girl thinks you're a fool for even being here.'
I scowl, because that's not what I meant.
'Ah, Lady Wren,' Oak says, a lazy smile on his mouth. Marigold hair brushing his forehead, half-hiding his horns. 'You wound me.”
― The Stolen Heir
'And you want me to tell you that was worth you being poisoned?' the knight demands.
'I'm always being poisoned. Alas, that it wasn't blusher mushroom,' the prince said nonsensically.
Tiernan nods his chin at me. 'That girl thinks you're a fool for even being here.'
I scowl, because that's not what I meant.
'Ah, Lady Wren,' Oak says, a lazy smile on his mouth. Marigold hair brushing his forehead, half-hiding his horns. 'You wound me.”
― The Stolen Heir
“He is wearing his golden armour again, the boy who'd been my friend disappearing into a man I don't know.”
― The Stolen Heir
― The Stolen Heir
“You have an unusual voice,' he says. 'Raspy. Quite fetching, really.'
'I damaged my vocal cords a long time ago,' I inform him. 'Screaming.'
Oak steps between us, and I am grateful for the reprieve. 'What a fine gentleman you make, Jack.'
Jack turns to the prince, his sinister smile dropped back into place. 'Oak and Wren, Wren and Oak. Delightful. Named for woodland creatures, but neither of you so simple.' He glances at Tiernan and Hyacinthe. 'Not nearly as simple as these two.”
― The Stolen Heir
'I damaged my vocal cords a long time ago,' I inform him. 'Screaming.'
Oak steps between us, and I am grateful for the reprieve. 'What a fine gentleman you make, Jack.'
Jack turns to the prince, his sinister smile dropped back into place. 'Oak and Wren, Wren and Oak. Delightful. Named for woodland creatures, but neither of you so simple.' He glances at Tiernan and Hyacinthe. 'Not nearly as simple as these two.”
― The Stolen Heir
“It's beautiful, no?' he asks, a little smile on his face. A light in his fox eyes.
It is, of course. All of Faerie is beautiful like this, with carnage hidden just beneath.”
― The Stolen Heir
It is, of course. All of Faerie is beautiful like this, with carnage hidden just beneath.”
― The Stolen Heir
“You're in a prickly mood,' he tells me.
As though I am not all-over briars at all times.”
― The Stolen Heir
As though I am not all-over briars at all times.”
― The Stolen Heir
“Once, the thing I am wearing was a sundress, with fluttery sleeves. A diaphanous white gown that flowed around me when I spun. I found it in a shop late one night. I'd stripped off the clothes given to me in the Court of Teeth, left them behind, and put them on instead.
I liked the dress so much that I wove myself a crown of hellebores and danced through the night streets. I stared at myself in puddles, convinced that so long as I didn't smile, I might even be pretty. I know it doesn't look like that anymore, but I can no longer picture myself in anything else.
I wish Oak could have seen the dress as it was, even though it hasn't looked that way in a long time.”
― The Stolen Heir
I liked the dress so much that I wove myself a crown of hellebores and danced through the night streets. I stared at myself in puddles, convinced that so long as I didn't smile, I might even be pretty. I know it doesn't look like that anymore, but I can no longer picture myself in anything else.
I wish Oak could have seen the dress as it was, even though it hasn't looked that way in a long time.”
― The Stolen Heir
“I stomp back through the hall to my room and swing open the door, only to find Oak lounging in one of the chairs, his long limbs spread out in shameless comfort. A flower crown of myrtle rests just above his horns. With it, he wears a new shirt of white linen and scarlet trousers embroidered with vines. Even his hooves appear polished.
He looks every bit the handsome faerie prince, beloved by everyone and everything. Rabbits probably eat from his hands. Blue jays try to feed him worms meant for their own children.”
― The Stolen Heir
He looks every bit the handsome faerie prince, beloved by everyone and everything. Rabbits probably eat from his hands. Blue jays try to feed him worms meant for their own children.”
― The Stolen Heir
“... his kindness was jarring and made me wonder what he wanted in return for it. I was used to tricks, to games.”
― The Stolen Heir
― The Stolen Heir
“Do you want to play a game?' He shuffled closer, eyes bright. Reaching into his pocket, he produced some little metal figures. Three silver foxes resting in the middle of his callused palm. Inset chips of peridot sparkled in their eyes.
...
'How do we play?'
'You throw them.' He formed a cage of his hands with the foxes inside, shook it up, and then tossed them into the grass. 'If they land standing, you get ten points. If they land on their backs, you get five points. If they land on their side, no points.”
― The Stolen Heir
...
'How do we play?'
'You throw them.' He formed a cage of his hands with the foxes inside, shook it up, and then tossed them into the grass. 'If they land standing, you get ten points. If they land on their backs, you get five points. If they land on their side, no points.”
― The Stolen Heir
“HIs words stood as a reminder, though, that no matter how soft he seemed or how young, he was as capable of cruelty as the rest.”
― The Stolen Heir
― The Stolen Heir
“I ran anyway. And clutched his fingers as though he could drag me into a world where other kinds of games were possible. Hope lit my heart.”
― The Stolen Heir
― The Stolen Heir
“...it was as important to be a good winner as a good loser.
I wanted Oak to give me an opportunity to be a good winner.”
― The Stolen Heir
I wanted Oak to give me an opportunity to be a good winner.”
― The Stolen Heir
“Behind the abandoned house, two faerie horses chew on dandelions as they wait for their riders. Slight as deer, with a soft halo of light surrounding their bodies, they glide between the trees like ghosts.
Oak goes to the first. Her coat a soft grey, her mane braided into something that looks like netting, and which is hung with gold beads. Tooled leather saddlebags rest against her flanks. She nuzzles into his hand.”
― The Stolen Heir
Oak goes to the first. Her coat a soft grey, her mane braided into something that looks like netting, and which is hung with gold beads. Tooled leather saddlebags rest against her flanks. She nuzzles into his hand.”
― The Stolen Heir
“If Oak is the sunlight filtering through trees in the woods, all shifting gold and shadow, then Tiernan seems like those same woods in winter, the branches barren and cold.”
― The Stolen Heir
― The Stolen Heir
“Do not fall under Prince Oak's spell,' he warns as the knight climbs up the rocks to us. 'He's not what he seems.”
― The Stolen Heir
― The Stolen Heir
“My hair whips behind me, and when Oak glances back, I have to look away. Circlet at his brow, sword at his belt, in his shining belt, he looks like a knight from a child's imaginings, out of a storybook.”
― The Stolen Heir
― The Stolen Heir
“If he's half as taken with you as you are with yourself, I imagine he'll be well pleased.”
― The Stolen Heir
― The Stolen Heir
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