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“Kiss me again,�� he says, drunk and foolish. “Kiss me until I am sick of it.”
― Holly Black, The Wicked King

“Tell me again what you said at the revel,�� he says, climbing over me, his body against mine.

“What?�� I can barely think.

“That you hate me,�� he says, his voice hoarse. “Tell me that you hate me.��

“I hate you,�� I say, the words coming out like a caress. I say it again, over and over. A litany. An enchantment. A ward against what I really feel. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.��

He kisses me harder.

“I hate you,�� I breathe into his mouth. “I hate you so much that sometimes I can’t think of anything else.”
― Holly Black, The Wicked King

“And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

“He looks up at me with his night-colored eyes, beautiful and terrible all at once. “For a moment,�� he says, “I wondered if it wasn’t you shooting bolts at me.��

I make a face at him. “And what made you decide it wasn’t?��

He grins up at me. “They missed.”
― Holly Black, The Wicked King