Isabeau Quotes & Sayings

Any more packages for Solange?"
"Twelve letters, three packages, and a box of puppies."
I winced. "Puppies?"
"They're fine. Isabeau took them all."
"Good. Who eats puppies?" I shook my head.
"Yeah, Isabeau swore in French. A lot."
"Hot."
"Yeah, Logan nearly went cross-eyed."
"Chapter 12 — Alyxandra Harvey

In my opinion, the entire field of investment management, involving hundreds of billions of dollars, would be more satisfactorily conducted if everyone had a good yardstick for measurement of ability and sensibly applied it. — Warren Buffett

Logan?'
'Yes?' I pulled my clothes back on even though the fabric stuck to my wounds. So much for trying to keep them clean.
'How did you know it wasn't really me?'
'Are you kidding? Your eyeballs could be on fire and you wouldn't bat your lashes at me like that. — Alyxandra Harvey

I nodded. "Where's your hunter?"
She flinched. "He went home. We thought it would be best."
Her eyes went from worried to warning. "He's under Drake protection."
"So am I, or so I've been led to understand."
"Of course you are," Lucy said, her nose pressed to the window. "Misunderstanding. No big deal."
Solange quirked a half smile. "You might try complete sentences, Lucy."
"Can't. Busy."
I was curious despite myself. "What are you doing?"
"Drooling," Solange explained fondly. — Alyxandra Harvey

I have to console myself with the hope that I'd seen Isabeau soften, even hesitate, as if she might actually have taken my arm. It was suddenly very easy to picture her in a gown with petticoats and ringlets in her hair and diamonds at her throat. It was just as easy to picture Magda with horns and pitchfork. - Logan, page 95 — Alyxandra Harvey

He ... loves her. Well, he's crushing on her anyway."
I didn't know the term but I understood its meaning well enough. I sighed. "I thought she'd be smarter."
He raised his eyebrows. "She's plenty smart." He looked thoughtful. "You don't believe in love then?"
"No." I wanted to look away, couldn't. "I don't know. — Alyxandra Harvey

Nineteen percent of doctors say that they'd be able to give their patients a lethal injection. But they also went on to say that the patient would have to be really, really behind on payments. — Jay Leno

Don't judge a man until you have walked two moons in his moccasins. — Sharon Creech

Solange leaned back against the wall, bored. "Are you done yet?"
"Hell no," Lucy said. She'd left nose prints on the glass. Nicholas smirked up at her. She blushed. "Ooops. Busted."
"I told you they could hear your heartbeat," Solange said.
"Even from up here."
"I can't help it. Even if they all know they're pretty and are insufferably arrogant," she added louder. "Can they hear that?"
"Yes."
"Good." She glanced at me. "Yummy, right?"
"I'm sure Isabeau would rather recover, not ogle my brothers,"
Solange said. "You remember how stressed you were after the Hypnos?"
"Please," Lucy scoffed. "This is totally soothing. — Alyxandra Harvey

who would cry out to the petals on the ground to stay, knowing as we must, how the vivacity of what was is married to the vivacity of what will be? — Mary Oliver

My brothers are idiots.
Anyone can see that under the scars and the attitude, Isabeau is more fragile than she looks. And as a reclusive Hound princess, her first introduction to the royal family shouldn't be a dose of Hypnos and four idiots gawking at her.
If I'd managed not to gawk, they sure as hell could have. She was beautiful, fierce, and utterly unlike anyone I'd ever known.
It was really hard not to gawk.
Much better to pace outside her door with one of our Bouviers sitting at the top of the stairs watching me curiously.
"This sucks, Boudicca," I told her. "I don't think we inherited Dad's diplomacy."
She laid her chin on her paws. I could have sworn she rolled her eyes. — Alyxandra Harvey

For two weeks, he'd come here after putting in a twelve-hour day at the studio. Two long weeks of watching, aching. And for what? Isabeau Montgomery wanted nothing to do with him. She had him completely at her feet, and she didn't even know it. Hell, had she known, she most likely wouldn't care. — Sarah Grimm

Freedom. Writing should be all about freedom. Free yourself from societal constraints when you write. Create true Art. — Isabeau Kelm

I leaped toward her, landing behind her to guard her back before the Hel-Blar reached us. She shot me a half-surprised, half-grateful glance. The moon glinted on her sword and the chain mail sewn into the leather of her tunic, over her heart.
"Stay close," I told her.
She snorted. "I have a sword and you have a butter knife. Staying close is about your only option. — Alyxandra Harvey

(Lucy to Isabeau)"
"Cool." She tilted her head. "You don't look crazy."
"You're like a runaway train," Logan groaned at her. "Can't you shut her up?" he asked his brother pleadingly.
"How?" Nicholas said somewhat helplessly.
"Kiss her, you idiot. — Alyxandra Harvey

Wasn't she scared?" Isabeau asked, her voice naught but a whisper. "To go with death?"
"No." I reach over and tuck her hair behind her ear. "For death is not scary or evil or even unmerciful; it is simply death. — Robin LaFevers

I can do this, Logan," she said confidently. "Kala trained me for this."
"What if something goes wrong? I can't exactly wave a magic wand over you. I'm not Harry Potter."
"Who?"
"Never mind. — Alyxandra Harvey

I imagine this midnight moment's forest:
Something else is alive
Besides the clock's loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.

Through the window I see no star:
Something more near
Though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:

Cold, delicately as the dark snow,
A fox's nose touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now

Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come

Across clearings, an eye,
A widening deepening greenness,
Brilliantly, concentratedly,
Coming about its own business

Till, with sudden sharp hot stink of fox
It enters the dark hole of the head.
The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
The page is printed.

- The Thought Fox — Ted Hughes

Never mind that I totally knew more about fighting vampires than my peace-loving parents. Or that Logan's girlfriend, Isabeau, had given us two full-grown, trained Rottweilers to protect us, plus the Drakes sent their human bodyguards by a couple of times a night. I named them Van Helsing and Gandhi. The dogs, not the bodyguards."
"Chapter 1 Lucy, page 15 — Alyxandra Harvey

Our too-young and too-new America, lusty because it is lonely, aggressive because it is afraid, insists upon seeing the world in terms of good and bad, the holy and the evil, the high and the low, the white and the black; our America is frightened of fact, of history, of processes, of necessity. It hugs the easy way of damning those whom it cannot understand, of excluding those who look different, and it salves its conscience with a self-draped cloak of righteousness — Richard Wright

Everybody has to sell out at some point to make a living. — Dennis Miller

My parents want to do things differently. Dad's big on treaties.'
'And your mother?' Isabeau inquired.
'She's big on making grown men cry. — Alyxandra Harvey

[In hockey] I was a goon, just protecting the better players. I've always been a better baseball player. — Eric Gagne

Tonight, I'd like to fuck like every other bloody Englishman, with you on your back and me on top groaning and pumping away for a minute or so, then a nice sleep."
A sneer touched the edge of her mouth, then Isabeau laughed. "You English, you are so uninspired, a pity for your women. My soul cries for them."
"Yes, unimaginative lot that we are, we have somehow managed to colonize much of the world. — Chris Karlsen

Until you have a son of your own ... you will never know the joy, the love beyond feeling that resonates in the heart of a father as he looks upon his son. — Kent Nerburn

You're mine,
Isabeau. You'll always be mine. Make no mistake about it. Whether you choose to forgive me and give
us a second chance, or you don't, you'll be my only. — Christine Feehan

Rivers are highways that move on and bear us whither we wish to go. — Blaise Pascal

Isabeau had a garden insider of her. — M.J. Rose

Finally, a bit of luck. Rat bastard,' I hissed down at Montmartre. 'Mangy dog of a scurvy goat.'
'That doesn't even make sense,' Isabeau murmured.
'Feels good though. Try it.'
She narrowed her eyes at the top of Montmartre's perfectly groomed hair. 'Balding donkey's ass.'
'Nice.'
'Sniveling flea-bitten rabid monkey droppings.'
'Clearly, you're a natural. — Alyxandra Harvey