Ravens Quotes

“Ravens are the birds I'll miss most when I die. If only the darkness into which we must look were composed of the black light of their limber intelligence. If only we did not have to die at all. Instead, become ravens.”
― Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum

“Ravens bring things to people. We're like that. It's our nature. We don't like it.”
― Peter S. Beagle, A Fine and Private Place

“His angelic wings blackened when the dark fury assailed his mind. Summoning new strength from the unholy power that ravaged his soul, grieved to drastic levels of desperation by the tainting of the holy light within him, he combated ally and enemy alike, bent on destroying both sides in order to ensure the quelling of the dark energies there and then. For days and nights, the lone warrior bathed himself in the blood of angels and demons. And when it was over, he stood alone on contaminated land, with a contaminated soul. He was banned forever from Heaven and not even Hell had space for a creature which seemed to cherish Oblivion over Pandemonium. The dark angel, not so far removed from his former self as his superiors seemed to believe, died on the edge of the cliffs, of utter loneliness and despair.”
― T. A. Miles, Raventide

“Look, back in the old days, ravens used to be gentle and white, like doves, okay? But they were terrible gossips. One time I was dating this girl, Koronis. The ravens found out she was cheating on me, and they told me about it. I was so angry, I got Artemis to kill Koronis for me. Then I punished the ravens for being tattletales by turning them black.”
Reyna stared at me like she was contemplating another kick to my nose. “That story is messed up on so many levels.”
“Just wrong,” Meg agreed. “You had your sister kill a girl who was cheating on you?”
“Well, I—”
“Then you punished the birds that told you about it,” Reyna added, “by turning them black, as if black was bad and white was good?”
“When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound right,” I protested. “It’s just what happened when my curse scorched them. It also made them nasty-tempered flesh-eaters.”
“Oh, that’s much better,” Reyna snarled.
“If we let the birds eat you,” Meg asked, “will they leave Reyna and me alone?”
“I—What?” I worried that Meg might not be kidding. Her facial expression did not say kidding. It said serious about the birds eating you. “Listen, I was angry! Yes, I took it out on the birds, but after a few centuries I cooled down. I apologized. By then, they kind of liked being nasty-tempered flesh-eaters. As for Koronis—I mean, at least I saved the child she was pregnant with when Artemis killed her. He became Asclepius, god of medicine!”
“Your girlfriend was pregnant when you had her killed?” Reyna launched another kick at my face. I managed to dodge it, since I’d had a lot of practice cowering, but it hurt to know that this time she hadn’t been aiming at an incoming raven. Oh, no. She wanted to knock my teeth in.
“You suck,” Meg agreed.”
― Rick Riordan, The Tyrant’s Tomb

“On Broad Street, ravens

lurk on the Divine Lorraine Hotel as if to say
Always a corpse flower, never a bride.”
― Emily Skaja, Brute: Poems

“We don't need the victim's entrails for their own sake, only for the sake of the signs they convey. And we don't worship the crow or the raven -- we worship God who communicates by means of them.”
― Epictetus

“In life one of Midnight’s favourite movies had been It’s a Wonderful Life, a touching story where a man called George Bailey is shown how poor the world would have been if he’d never existed, but now the young ghost of Midnight Merlot was sat imagining himself not as the kind hero of his own narrative, but, - but as the anti-George.”
― Tom Conrad

“Jess pushed herself up to sit next to him. "In case you didn't get the memo, it' s my turn to take care of you right now." Ike dropped his face into his hands on a groan, and Jess's cool hand massages his neck. "Oh, my God. You're so hot."

He chuffed out a small laugh. "Why, thank you."

Jess Chuckled. "You realize you don't have to fish for compliments, right? Not from me. Because I will straight-up tell you that the sight of your Ravens tat stretched over all these muscles gives me a lady boner." Her fingers traced the design across his shoulder blades - a spread-winged raven perches on the hilt of a dagger sunk into the eye socket of a skull. The block letters of the club's name arched over the menacing black bird.

He threw her some major side-eye. "I know I'm sick because the perverted part of my brain just heard you say my ink gives you a lady boner.”
― Laura Kaye, Hard as Steel

“Put a tray of cookies out and the Ravens were like a bunch of eight-year-olds, not a clubhouse full of hard-ass bikers.”
― Laura Kaye, Ride Hard

“He broke a piece off his cookie and handed it to her. "Want some?"
She let him put it in her mouth, her stomach fluttering because the look in his eyes suggested those words might not be about the cookie. Although he could be hard to read, and she wanted him so much she was always half sure she was projecting her desire onto him.
"Good, right?" he asked. His gaze ran down her face and stopped at her lips.
"Yeah," she said, swallowing the last of the cookie. Now tell him. Right.
"Shit, I have to..." His hand threaded into her hair and grasped the back of her head. And then his mouth found hers and his tongue slid in deep, stroking, twirling, penetrating. She surrendered to the kiss and pressed her body against his, loving how big and hard an strong he was against her. His erection dug into her belly, and she loved that too, the evidence that she wasn't the only one feeling so out of control.
By the time he pulled back from the kiss, Haven was breathing hard and a little dizzy and totally aroused.
Had to taste you with that flavor in your mouth," he said in a gritty voice. "Just as good as I thought it'd be.”
― Laura Kaye, Ride Hard

“You saved me," he said, his voice cracking a little.
Haven smiled, completely overwhelmed y his perfection of the moment. "We saved each other."
Dare heaved a deep, shaky breath. "You're pretty fucking awesome. You know that?" he asked.
Her smile slipped into a grin. "I really a."
He gave a little coughing laugh and groaned at the same time. "Can't...laugh," he gasped.
"I'm sorry." She stroked his hair off his face.
"Don't ever be sorry for making me happy, Haven. Because you do. Happier than I've ever been in my life. I didn't realize how little I'd been living all these years until you came along. So, yeah, we saved each other. And I just can't let you go. Not today. Not ever."
Which was exactly what Haven wanted to hear. "That's all I need, Dare. You're all I need. We'll figure the rest out."
His fingers toyed clumsily with a long strand of her hair. "Yeah, we fucking will," he said, strength filtering into his voice. "One day, one night, one ride at a time.”
― Laura Kaye, Ride Hard

“Always there have been six ravens at the Tower. If the ravens fly away, the kingdom will fall.”
― John Owen Theobald, These Dark Wings

“Between one stride and the next, the herd of reindeer faded away. She felt a last few ghosts go with her, shoulder on shoulder, and then they too were gone and she was back, alone, in the world of humans and ravens.”
― T. Kingfisher, The Raven and the Reindeer

“He painted until his cursive brushes were only whispers of rawness on the thin ivory. Only the walls and the ravens that watched
knew the boy with the paint-stained palms weaved his art onto his sketchpad on the park bench at lunchtimes, and only the trees
whispered it like a prayer.”
― Grace Curley, The Light that Binds Us

“Cain was sent the raven to bury his brother's body and hide his transgression from God, the supposed truth still came out in various holy books.”
― L.B. Ó Ceallaigh, Revenants, Retroviruses, and Religion: How Viruses and Disease Created Cultural Mythology and Shaped Religious Perspectives

“Ravens taught me to pay attention. The desert taught me to see. Art and artists taught me to see more…and better…and to appreciate, savor, and protect.”
― Linda Durham, Still Moving: a memoir

“There was a muffled cry and the sound of furious flapping of feathers, and then a pair of ravens descended carrying a heavy cloth between them. They set it on the desk, screamed, and flew back up into the star-filled sky in a flurry of black feathers. Even the arrival of dinner was a dramatic production here.”
― Sarah K.L. Wilson, Dance With The Sword

“The only upside to that ice-cold bath was that Ike has gotten wet and tossed his shirt, and Jess thought she might be willing to be sick more often if it meant getting to see him shirtless. Because, holy bad-ass tattooed biker on a stick, he was so freaking hot. Cut muscles, ink everywhere, two insanely delicious indents low on his waist. And scars Jess has no idea how Ike had gotten.

All that goodness and Jess couldn't even see the big Ravens tat that she knew covered Ike's broad back. But she'd seen it before, back at Hard Ink when Jeremy occasionally did a new piece for Ike. She'd seen it enough to know that she'd love to have a good reason to dig her fingers into that tat...”
― Laura Kaye, Hard as Steel

“You realize if you stand in my kitchen, I'm gonna put you to work, right?" Bunny asked after a minute.

"I'm at your service," he said.

She laughed. "My favorite words ever.”
― Laura Kaye, Hard as Steel

“She nodded and watched him job up the steps. And good God did he do all kinds of justice to a pair of jeans.”
― Laura Kaye, Ride Hard

“We'll let that be plan A." Nick said. "But you know as well as I do that plan A often gets fucked when it meets reality.”
― Laura Kaye, Ride Hard

“Hi" she said.
He gave her the sexiest crooked smile. "Hi." He stepped into her space, both his hands going to her hair, pushing it back off her face, just running his fingers through it. Touching her like he always did. "What was it you wanted?" he asked, no rush or urgency to his voice.
"You." The word fell from her lips unbidden, but she didn't' want to take it back. She didn't have time for anything but honesty. "Just you.”
― Laura Kaye, Ride Hard

“You saved me tonight."

"No," he said, eyes flashing, one brow arched. "You saved yourself, Al. I was just your getaway driver.”
― Laura Kaye, Ride Rough

“It was a moment of awe. I considered the powerful appearance of the two ravens an immediate and true message from God. The magical encounter settled in my cells. I embraced the call to honor those messengers whose commanding presence showed me the link between a call to God and a response through nature.”
― Linda Durham, Still Moving: a memoir

“The manor ravens were on the move. One by one, they glided across the lawn and took up posts in the trees that fringed the property. It was rare to see so many at once. And what was that called?
“Unkindness,” I said. “An unkindness of ravens.”
Rubbing my chilled arms, I rose from the bench and took a last look at the scene below.
“Unkindness and murder,” I whispered.”
― M.E. Hilliard, The Unkindness of Ravens

“farther west, a raven floated down the road like an escort, a companion, making sure I got home all right.”
― Rick Bass, The Sky, The Stars, The Wilderness

“You gotta be a generalist, in the new climate. But that’s not enough either. If there’s too much poison around. We’re talking pesticides, mostly. Agrochemicals everywhere. Take the sparrows. So anyways, I’d pick raven. A raven can kill, but will he eat garbage? Yes. He will.”
― Lydia Millet, Dinosaurs

“Golden feathers began to fly through the air, and the wedding guests could not at first make sense of it. The oíche sidhe kept whacking and whacking until the serving girl split apart like an overripe plum and became what she had been long ago, though neither she nor the mother who raised her had guessed it---a golden raven, one of the three enchanted birds that the prince had released to bring strife to the kingdom.
The serving girl flitted out the window, free at last, while the oíche sidhe dusted their hands and went smilingly back into hiding. They stopped pomading chickens and turning pajamas into evening wear, which was ultimately a relief to the duchess, who had been down to her last nightgown.
As for the prince, the serving girl's disappearance finally gave him a purpose in life. He retreated to the wilderness to learn magic from witches and any Folk who would teach him. Eventually he succeeded in turning himself into a raven, whereupon he flew off in search of his beloved. In the northeast of Ireland it is said that he is still searching for his golden bride to this day, and that if you listen closely, you can hear her name in the croaking of the ravens.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries

“I like my lover's heart blackened with a deeper shade of darkness, where the ravens and I can rest in peace.”
― Ann Marie Eleazer, She's Magic & Midnight Lace: Poems and Poetic Spells

“I had an Irish nanny who told me that ravens attract energies, all different types. That’s all magic is. The focus of will and intention applied to possibilities.” She took a deep breath. “So let it fly.” We were silent for a moment, each of us conjuring an unspoken invocation in our heads, tying all the things we wanted to release to those lustrous black feathers. Then I opened the door of the cage. The raven remained frozen, as if it had been in captivity for so long it had forgotten it was wild. Or maybe it felt the weight of being tied with all the hopes and fears of two refugees trying to find their way. I thought for a moment about shaking it out. Instead, in two brave hops it was at the door, a tight fit that left one oily feather trailing behind. Then with only a few large flaps, the bird lifted, spreading its wings, feathers edged like fingers. Its friend joined it almost immediately, and the pair soared in a wide looping circle above the market, and then they were away, out of sight, returned to their natural state.”
― Claire McMillan, Alchemy of a Blackbird