Quotes Galore : Shadow and Bone (Grisha Trilogy #1) By Leigh Bardugo

Quotes Galore : Shadow and Bone (Grisha Trilogy #1) By Leigh Bardugo


Let me be honest here just for a second, even though this is my second rodeo reading the Shadow and Bone trilogy by Leigh Bardugo, the level of fangirling I have for the Darkling is quite literally on par (read: I’m head over heels for him) as the first time I read it. 

Last year, with all the shitty books that I picked and my inability to finish most of them, I decided to turn to young adult novels, however, even that wasn’t able to pull me out of my funk. At that time, my dramatic ass seriously thought that that was it. I was absolutely done with YA novels. They are all the same, no varieties, the same formulaic storyline over and over.

Look at who’s talking now.


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Jokes aside though, these days I seriously cannot get enough of more YA novels to read. Sure, I’m still reading my way through the Shadow and Bone series as I type this, but trust me when I say that I already have 3 more young adult series lined up after I’m done with the Grisha trilogy. Yes, your girl is obsessed. And she’s loving every single second of it.





I wanted to believe that Mal and I would always be friends, but I had to face the fact that we were on different paths. Lying in the dark, waiting for sleep, I wondered if those paths would just keep taking us further and further apart, and if a day might come when we would be strangers to each other once again.



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“What is wrong with you?” I whispered furiously.


“Nothing,” he said, surprised. “I feel great.”


“But how can you be so … so jaunty?”


“Jaunty? I’ve never been jaunty. I hope never to be jaunty.”


“Wish me luck!” he called over his shoulder.


“Good luck,” I said automatically and then wanted to kick myself. Good luck? Have a lovely time, Mal. Hope you find a pretty Grisha, fall deeply in love, and make lots of gorgeous, disgustingly talented babies together.


The boy and the girl glanced at each other and, because the adults were not paying close attention, they did not see the girl reach out to clasp the boy’s hand or the look that passed between them. The Duke would have recognized that look. He had spent long years on the ravaged northern borders, where the villages were constantly under siege and the peasants fought their battles with little aid from the King or anyone else. He had seen a woman, barefoot and unflinching in her doorway, face down a row of bayonets. He knew the look of a man defending his home with nothing but a rock in his hand.


Before Mal, Keramzin had been a place of terrors, long nights spent crying in the dark, older children who ignored me, cold and empty rooms. But then Mal arrived and all of that changed. The dark hallways became places to hide and play. The lonely woods became places to explore.


Keramzin became our palace, our kingdom, and I wasn’t afraid anymore.


This place is more beautiful than I can describe, but I would trade it all to spend an afternoon skipping stones with you at Trivka’s pond.



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I pressed my forehead to Mal’s and heard him whisper, “I’ll meet you in the meadow.”





“Just you and me,” Mal said.




“It’s always just you and me, Alina.”




I was no one, a refugee from an unnamed village, a scrawny, clumsy girl hurtling alone through the gathering dark. But when the Darkling had closed his fingers around my wrist, I’d felt different, like something more.



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“So I’m the Darkling’s prisoner?”


“You’re under his protection.”


“What’s the difference?”


Ivan’s expression was unreadable. “Pray you never find out.”


“We’ll take the southern trails. It’s what we should have done in the first place.”


“So you do make mistakes,” I said without thinking.


“I didn’t mean—”


“Of course I make mistakes,” he said. His mouth curved into a half smile. “Just not often.”


“What are you smiling at?”


The Darkling’s voice seemed to float out of the shadows. He walked down to the stream, crouching on the bank to splash water on his face and through his dark hair. “Well?” he asked, looking up at me.


“Myself,” I admitted.


“Are you that funny?”


“I’m hilarious.”



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“I’ve spent my life searching for a way to make things right. You’re the first glimmer of hope I’ve had in a long time.”





“We all have our secrets.”





“So what do you think of it?” he asked. I glanced at him, then back at the elaborate facade.


“It’s very … grand?” I said carefully.


He looked at me, a little smile playing on his lips. “I think it’s the ugliest building I’ve ever seen,” he said, and nudged his horse forward.


“Get out.”


Genya cocked her head to one side, studying me. “Why are you taking this so personally?”


“Wouldn’t you?”


“I have no idea. I’ve always been beautiful.”




“Lie back or you can forget about your little favor.”


My jaw dropped. “You are rotten.”


“I am marvelous.”



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“How did you fare with the Queen?” he asked.


“I have no idea,” I said honestly. “Everything she said was perfectly nice, but the whole time she was looking at me as if I were something her dog spit up.”


Genya laughed, and the Darkling’s lips quirked in what was nearly a smile. “Welcome to court,” he said.


“I’m not sure I like it.”


“No one does,” he admitted. “But we all make a good show of it.”





“I’m not Grisha,” I blurted.



“The evidence suggests otherwise,” he said with little concern.

“What makes you so certain?”



“Look at me!”



“I’m looking.”




“I hope you don’t expect fairness from me, Alina. It isn’t one of my specialties.”


“I already feel like I don’t belong here. I think it might be easier if I weren’t … singled out.”


“Are you so anxious to be like everyone else?”



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“I’ve been waiting for you a long time, Alina,” he said. “You and I are going to change the world.”


“Once it is done, there can be no other. Like calls to like, and the bond is made.”





“I wonder sometimes how much we really understand our own gifts.”





“There is something more powerful than any army. Something strong enough to topple kings, and even Darklings. Do you know what that thing is?”


I shook my head, inching away from him.


“Faith,” he breathed, his black eyes wild. “Faith.”


A thousand girls would sell their own mothers to be in your shoes, and yet here you are, miserable and sulking like a child. So tell me, girl. What is your sad little heart pining for?



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“Not good enough!”


“I’m doing my best,” I muttered in exasperation.


“Pah!” she spat. “Do you think the world cares if you do your best? Do it again and do it right.”


“This is a waste of time.”


“Is it? What else do you have to do with your days? Make maps? Fetch inks for some old cartographer?”


“There’s nothing wrong with being a mapmaker.”


“Of course not. And there’s nothing wrong with being a lizard either. Unless you were born to be a hawk.”





What is infinite?

The universe and the greed of men.





After a moment, she said softly, “We all feel it, you know.”


“Feel what?”


“The pull. Toward the Darkling. But he’s not like us, Alina.”


“What do you mean?”


 “His kind of power, the way he looks. You’d have to be mad or blind not to notice it.”



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“Just … be careful.”


I stared at her, baffled. “Of what?”


“Of powerful men.”



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The idea of being his sent a little jolt through me. I didn’t think he was in love with me and I had no idea what I felt for him, but he wanted me, and maybe that was enough.





“The problem with wanting,” he whispered, his mouth trailing along my jaw until it hovered over my lips, “is that it makes us weak.”





I’d been lonely my whole life, but I’d never been truly alone before, and it wasn’t nearly as scary as I’d imagined.


I’ve risked my life for you. I’ve walked half the length of Ravka for you, and I’d do it again and again and again just to be with you, just to starve with you and freeze with you and hear you complain about hard cheese every day. So don’t tell me we don’t belong together.



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“Did you miss me, Alina? Did you miss me when you were gone?”


“Every day,” I said honestly.


“I missed you every hour.”


“I’m not like you, Mal. I never really fit in the way that you did. I never really belonged anywhere.”


“You belonged with me,” he said quietly.


“No, Mal. Not really. Not for a long time.”


I’m sorry it took me so long to see you, Alina. But I see you now.



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He clutched my hands more tightly, holding them close to his heart. “I don’t care if you danced naked on the roof of the Little Palace with him. I love you, Alina, even the part of you that loved him.”


“Mal,” I whispered into the night.




“Thanks for finding me.” I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming, but somewhere in the dark, I thought I heard him whisper, “Always.”


I thought that I’d given up on Mal. I thought the love I’d had for him belonged to the past, to the foolish, lonely girl I never wanted to be again. I’d tried to bury that girl and the love she’d felt, just as I’d tried to bury my power. But I wouldn’t make that mistake again. Whatever burned between us was just as bright, just as undeniable. The moment our lips met, I knew with pure and piercing certainty that I would have waited for him forever.



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We found our way back to each other, Alina. That’s all that matters.





“Did you tell him, Alina?

Does the boy know how willing you were to give yourself to me?

Did you tell him what I showed you in the dark?”





“Just what kind of life do you think you could have with him, Alina? He’s otkazat’sya. He can never hope to understand your power, and if he did, he’d only come to fear you. There is no ordinary life for people like you and me.”


“I’m nothing like you,” I said flatly.


His lips curled in a tight, bitter smile. “Of course not,” he said courteously.



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“Don’t pretend this is about Ravka’s welfare. You lied to me. You’ve been lying to me since the moment I met you.”


His long fingers tightened around the glass. “Did you deserve my trust?”


“Murderer!” I shouted. “Monster!”


“All of those things.”


“I hate you,” I spat.


He shrugged. “You’ll tire of hate soon enough. You’ll tire of everything. You will wear that collar for the rest of your very, very long life, Alina. Fight me as long as you’re able. You will find I have far more practice with eternity.”


“Mercy.” He said the word as if he were tasting something unfamiliar. “I could be merciful.” He raised his other hand to cup my face and kissed me softly, gently, and though everything in me rebelled, I let him. I hated him. I feared him. But still I felt the strange tug of his power, and I couldn’t stop the hungry response of my own treacherous heart.



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“You betrayed me,” he said softly.


“Yes,” I said. “I’m sorry for that.”


He laughed. “You’re not sorry for any of it. The only thought you have is for the boy and his miserable life.”


I said nothing.


“Tell me,” he said, his grip tightening painfully, his fingertips pressing into my flesh. In the firelight, his gaze looked unfathomably bleak. “Tell me how much you love him. Beg for his life.”




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