Maven Quotes & Sayings

Wish him a happy birthday for me. And assure him it will be his last. But yours is coming, isn't it? I don't doubt we'll spend it together. Until we meet again, Maven — Victoria Aveyard

Cal stares at the floor, silent for a long, stoic moment. "I never thought Maven would do that to her," he mutters finally. "She probably didn't either."
Then you're both stupid, my brain screams. How many times doe one wicked boy have to betray you people before you learn? — Victoria Aveyard

He's hunting newbloods not to protect his throne but to hurt you. To find you. To make you come back to him." His fist clenches on his thigh. "Maven wants you more than anything else on this earth."
Would that Maven were here now, so I could rip out his horrible, haunting eyes. "Well, he can't have me." I realize the consequences of this, and so does Cal.
"Not even if it stops the killing? Not for the newbloods?"
Tears bite my eyes. "I won't go back. For anyone."
I expect his judgment, but instead he smiles and ducks his head. Ashamed of his own reaction, as I am of mine. — Victoria Aveyard

I live in a shrinking world where the only thing I can trust is Maven's obsession. Like the manacles, it is a shield and a slow, smothering death. — Victoria Aveyard

I won't let him hurt you again." His breath makes me shiver. A strange sensation, when surrounded with such blazing warmth. "I believe you," I tell him, lying. Because I am weak, I turn in his arms. Because I am weak, I press my lips to his, searching for something to make me stop running, to make me forget. We are both weak, it seems. As his hands run over my skin, I feel a different sort of pain. Worse than Maven's machine, deeper than my nerves. It aches like a hollow, like an empty weight. I am a sword, born of lightning, of this fire - and of Maven's. One already betrayed me, and the other might leave at any moment. But I do not fear a broken heart. I do not fear pain. — Victoria Aveyard

Cal might be born to rule, but Maven was meant for it. And Maven is willing to change the world for us, for the Reds he was raised to spit on. — Victoria Aveyard

But not all of them are decorated to the same level of taste. — Max Maven

I was four years old the first time I came here, and Maven was barely two. He hid behind his mother's skirts, afraid of the darkness and empty cells. I guess he's not afraid of the dark anymore. — Victoria Aveyard

Mare?"
"Are you afraid, Maven?"
"I am. I'm afraid of failing. I'm afraid of letting this opportunity pass us by. And I'm afraid of what happens if nothing in this world ever changes. That scares me more than dying. — Victoria Aveyard

But Maven shut me out of a place that was rightfully mine. He didn't know to look for Elane. My lovely, invisible shadow. Her reports came later, under the cover of the night. They were very thorough. I feel them still, whispered against my skin with only the moon to listen. Elane Haven is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in any capacity, but she looks best in moonlight — Victoria Aveyard

I was never yours, and you were never mine, Maven. And not because of him, either. I thought you were perfect, I thought you were strong and brave and good. I thought you were better than him."
Better than Cal. Those are words Maven thought no one would ever say. He flinches, and for a second, I can see the boy I used to know. A boy that doesn't exist anymore. — Victoria Aveyard

I can't help but remember that my lips, now smiling for Maven, were kissing his brother last night. — Victoria Aveyard

Maven Gustav, what is that awful noise?" Tobin bellowed, holding his hands over his ears.
"Why, it's my very own creation!" Gustav replied, beaming with pride. "I made this spell to be activated in the event of a castle emergency. In all my tests, it never failed to wake everyone," he noted, proudly.
"Yes, Gustav. It's fantastically loud. Well done. But what is the emergency, and how do we turn the alarm off? — R.S. Mollison-Read

When you see me in a scarf you may think "Oh, she went to some trouble there." But no, when I wear a scarf it means" this grey blouse was unwrinkled and those mocha pants make my behind look fine and voila I have a vivid grey,brown and white silk scarf which means I have transformed self from bone lazy to coordinated accessory maven.
Bridget Allison (Gretchen Gallen in my book#3, "Maid in Waiting" publish date June 2014) — Bridget Allison

Maven lies as easily as he breathes, and his mother holds his leash but not his heart. — Victoria Aveyard

My family's business was actually an amusement park in New Orleans. My grandfather had started that, and my grandmother was a dance maven in New Orleans. It was just the theatricality and the Mardi Gras and the pageantry that I fell in love with at an early age. — Bryan Batt

I'm a monster, I'm a maven,
I know this world is changin'.
Never gave in, never gave up,
I'm the only thing I'm afraid of. — Kanye West

Cal's touch has not erased Maven's. My memories are still there, still just as painful as they were yesterday. And as much as I try, I have not forgotten the canyon that will always stretch between us. No kind of love can erase his faults, just like none can erase mine. — Victoria Aveyard

A Connector might tell ten friends where to stay in Los Angeles, and half of them might take his advice. A Maven might tell five people where to stay in Los Angeles but make the case for the hotel so emphatically that all of them would take his advice. These are different personalities at work, acting for different reasons. But they both have the power to spark word-of-mouth epidemics. — Malcolm Gladwell

Come forward, Mare."


That is Maven's voice. Not Maven, but Maven. The boy I thought I knew. Gentle, tender. He keeps that voice stored away, ready to be used against me like a sword. It strikes me to my core, as he knows it will. In spite of myself, I feel the familiar longing for a boy who does not exist. — Victoria Aveyard

But Maven is not Cal, no matter how much his father might want him to be. He isn't a soldier, he won't be a king, but he's braver. And he's willing to do what's right. — Victoria Aveyard

Look through people," I tell her, my voice muffled by the helmet. "Smile without kindness. No small talk, no court talk. Act as if you have a million secrets, and you're the only one important enough to know them all."
She nods, taking this all in stride. After all, Cal and I have both instructed her on how to pass as Maven. This is merely a reminder, a last glance at the book before the test. "I'm not a fool," she replies coldly, and I almost punch her in the jaw. She is not Maven rings in my head, louder than a bell.
"I think you've got it," Kilorn says as he stands. He grabs my arm, pulling me slightly away. "Mare nearly killed you. — Victoria Aveyard

He is a monster still, a monster always. And yet I can't stop myself from listening. Because I could be a monster too. If given the wrong chance. If someone broke me, like he is broken.

Monsters are made. So was Maven. Who knows who he was supposed to be. — Victoria Aveyard

His expression is unreadable, but his meaning is clear. With one hand, he points at his feet. His fingers are whiter than I remember.

I do as he says.

I kneel. — Victoria Aveyard

Yesterday he was a prince; today he is king. I thought he was my friend, my bethrothed, but now I know better. — Victoria Aveyard

My skin burns under Maven's gaze, with the memory of one stolen kiss. It was him who saved me from Evangeline. Cal who saved me from escaping and bringing more pain upon myself. Cal who saved me from conscription. I've been too busy trying to save others to notice how much Cal saves me. How much he loves me.
Suddenly it's very hard to breathe.
Maven shakes his head. "He will always choose you."
Farley scoffs. "You want me to pin my entire operation, the entire revolution, on some teenaged love story? I can't believe this."
Across the table, a strange look crosses Kilorn's face. When Farley turns to him, looking for some kind of support, she fines none.
"I can," he whispers, his eyes never leaving my face. — Victoria Aveyard

She has every reason to be mad. I just wish I could do something. She's no soldier like us. She's kind and gentle."

"Aye," Maven nodded in agreement. "Not all of us are built for it. What kind of world would it be if we were? — B.M. Tolbert

Maven stares after his fleeing brother. "He does not like to lose. And" - he lowers his voice, now so close to me I can see the tiny flecks of silver in his eyes - "neither do I. I won't lose you, Mare. I won't."
"You'll never lose me. — Victoria Aveyard

The social media maven spends his or her time creating a self-caricature, a much happier and more photogenic version of real life. People subtly start comparing themselves to other people's highlight reels, — David Brooks

The only person Maven has to save me from is himself. — Victoria Aveyard

The ideological are individuals ultimately swamped by the complexities of modern life and political and economic relations; they have deliberately attached themselves to some caricatural maven like Falwell or Limbaugh who speaks to their manipulable pathos. The gulf between such individuals' education or intellectual competence or information and the actual issues of our times is simply too great. They were bred to be culture-media for false consciousness, junkies who crawl on their bellies across broken glass for another hit of "clarifying wisdom" from some ideological Pope. — Kenny Smith

I am not a general or a tactician, but her reasoning is clear. I am the little lightning girl - living electricity, a lightning bolt in human form. People know my name, my face, and my abilities. I am valuable, I am powerful, and Maven will do anything to stop me from striking back. — Victoria Aveyard

For all his clever ideas, Maven has nothing to say to this. He just stares, his breath coming in tiny, scared puffs. I know the look on his face; I wear it every time I'm forced to say good-bye to someone.
"It's too bad we didn't stay longer," I murmur, looking out at the river. "I would have liked to die close to home."
Another breeze sends a curtain of my hair across my face but Maven brushes it away and pulls me close with startling ferocity.
Oh.
His kiss is not at all like his brother's. Maven is more desperate, surprising himself as much as me. He knows I'm sinking fast, a stone dropping through the river. And he wants to drown with me.
"I will fix this," he murmurs against my lips. I have never seen his eyes so bright and sharp. "I won't let them hurt you. You have my word. — Victoria Aveyard

Everyone else got to wear their regular outfits from the first movie. I had to wear my outfit that Jabba picked out for me. Jabba the Hutt - the fashionista. Jabba the Hutt - the Coco Chanel of intergalactic style. Trendsetter, fashion maven, leader of women's looks in his world, on his planet and the next. In wax, I would forever be outfitted by outlaw Jabba. In wax and out, I would forever be stone-faced. — Carrie Fisher

Maven has miscalculated. He believes enough corpses will make me come back. But I will not. — Victoria Aveyard

When tears spring to his eyes, I know the king's heart, no matter how small or cold, has been broken. He loves Maven, in his own way. But it's too late for that. — Victoria Aveyard

Anything worth doing is worth overdoing. Are you overdone yet? — Charlotte Henley Babb

In my home there is a magic box. It is rectangular, it sits ten to twelve feet away from my desk. And if you place something inside that box and go away, when you come back thirty minutes later, that object is cold. I have no idea how this works. But if you persist in thinking of this as a refrigerator, then you have lost the perception of mystery. — Max Maven

There is nothing miraculous about puzzles. Competent mentalism is miraculous. — Max Maven

We've taken everything from her, brother," Maven murmurs, drawing close. "Surely we can give her this?"
And then slowly, reluctantly, Cal nods and waves me into his room. Dizzy with excitement, I hurry inside, almost hopping from foot to foot.
I'm going home.
Maven lingers at the door, his smile fading a little when I leave his side. "You're not coming." It isn't a question.
He shakes his head. "You'll have enough to worry about without me tagging along."
I don't have to be a genius to see the truth in his words. But just because he isn't coming doesn't mean I will forget what he's done for me already. Without thinking, I throw my arms around Maven. He doesn't respond for a second, but slowly lets an arm drop around my shoulders. When I pull back, a silver blush paints his cheeks. I can feel my own blood run hot beneath my skin, pounding in my ears. — Victoria Aveyard

Whatever our official pieties, deep down we all believe in lives. The sternest formalists are the loudest gossips, and if you ask a cultural-studies maven who believes in nothing but collective forces and class determinisms how she came to believe in this doctrine, she will begin to tell you, eagerly, the story of her life. — Adam Gopnik

They built it so quickly. It's only been a few days since the Bowl of Bones," I murmur back. Anything louder than a whisper might shatter this fragile peace.
Cal's hand stills, his palm flat against my bare skin. "Maven turned against you long before the Bowl of Bones."
I know that now. I know it with every bleeding breath. — Victoria Aveyard

Your hands are no cleaner than mine, Maven. — Victoria Aveyard

Social networking technology allows us to spend our time engaged in a hypercompetitive struggle for attention, for victories in the currency of "likes." People are given more occasions to be self-promoters, to embrace the characteristics of celebrity, to manage their own image, to Snapchat out their selfies in ways that they hope will impress and please the world. This technology creates a culture in which people turn into little brand managers, using Facebook, Twitter, text messages, and Instagram to create a falsely upbeat, slightly overexuberant, external self that can be famous first in a small sphere and then, with luck, in a large one. The manager of this self measures success by the flow of responses it gets. The social media maven spends his or her time creating a self-caricature, a much happier and more photogenic version of real life. People subtly start comparing themselves to other people's highlight reels, and of course they feel inferior. — David Brooks

Dimly, I hear Maven yelling somewhere, the prince charging in to save his princess. But I'm not a princess. I'm not the girl who gets saved. — Victoria Aveyard

Ultimately, I don't care if people decide that what I'm doing is real or not ... as long as they understand it isn't EASY. — Max Maven

And his eyes are worst of all. Her eyes, Elara's eyes. Once I thought them cold, made of living ice. Now I know better. The hottest fires burn blue, and his eyes are no exception. — Victoria Aveyard

The guard won't stop. And while they are certainly to blame, you are as well. There is blood on your hards, Prince. And Maven's. And mine. — Victoria Aveyard

Cal betrayed me, and I betrayed him. And you betrayed us both, in a thousand different ways." The words are heavy as stone but right. So right. "I chose no one."
For once, I feel like I control fire and Maven has been burned by it. He stumbles back from my cell, somehow defeated by the little girl without her lightning, the prisoner in chains, the human before god. — Victoria Aveyard

I hope Maven will see what we are, what we can do, and know he cannot win. Even he is not a fool. Even he knows when he is beaten. At least, I hope he does. Because as far as I can tell, Maven has never been defeated. Not when it really counts. Cal won their father, his soldiers, but Maven won the crown. Maven won every battle that truly mattered. And given time... he would've won me too. — Victoria Aveyard

I have no illusions where Maven is concerned. I know his twisted heart, and that it feels something for me. Something he wants to get rid of, but can never part with. — Victoria Aveyard

Cal and Maven are deadly creatures, soldiers. But their battle isn't just on the lines. It's here, in a palace, on the broadcasts, in the heart of every person they rule. They will rule, not just by right of a crown, but by might. Strength and power. It's all the Silvers respect, and it's all it takes to keep the rest of us slaves. — Victoria Aveyard

Most magicians are afraid of magic. — Max Maven

In the palace, during my imprisonment, I learned that Maven had been made by his mother, formed into the monster he became. There is nothing on earth that can change him or what she did. But Cal was made too. All of us were made by someone else, and all of us have some thread of steel that nothing and no one can cut. — Victoria Aveyard

A Maven is someone who wants to solve other people's problems, generally by solving his own," Alpert said, which is true, although what I suspect is that the opposite is also true, that a Maven is someone who solves his own problems - his own emotional needs - by solving other people's problems. — Malcolm Gladwell

I wiped my face with my napkin. "What made you want to become an actor?"
I was sure he was going to tell me something pompous like he was born to play the role. Or that he wanted to get all the woman. So I waited.
"Me." He bit his lip, but his eyes didn't meet mine. "I got sick of failing and being told I would never amount to shit back home my entire life."
I rubbed the back of my neck. This wasn't what I expected to hear.
"I've fucked up royally and I have been fucked royally." There was a tightness in his eyes, the emotion crawled up his entire body. "And no I don't want your pity."
I fidgeted in my chair. I didn't know what to say. "I understand."
Our eyes met, and for a split second Carter looked as if he was considering believing me. He blew out a noisy breath of air. "The fuck you do. — Maven West

Don't lie to a liar, and Maven is the grandest liar of all. — Victoria Aveyard

Her grip is strong as she shakes my hand; for once someone isn't afraid I'll break like glass.
"Every happiness to you, Lady Mareena. I can see this one suits you." She jerks her head toward
Maven. "Not like fancy Samos," she adds in a playful whisper. "She'll make a sad queen, and you a
happy princess, mark my words."
"Marked, — Victoria Aveyard

All thoughts of newbloods and Maven, my brother and Cal and Kilorn are gone entirely. Even the faces that haunt me, the faces of the dead, have disappeared.Funny, now that I'm dying, my ghosts decide to leave. I wish they would come back. I wish I didn't have to die alone. — Victoria Aveyard

I'm not leaving this place unless I leave behind his corpse - or mine. — Victoria Aveyard

I founded Atari in my garage in Santa Clara while at Stanford. When I was in school, I took a lot of business classes. I was really fascinated by economics. You end up having to be a marketeer, finance maven and a little bit of a technologist in order to get a business going. — Nolan Bushnell

I don't understand at all. I don't belong here. Julian was right. This is a game I don't understand, a game I don't know how to play. I wish Julian were here now, to explain, to help, to save me. But no one is coming.
"Maven, please," I plead, trying to make him look at me. But he turns his back, focusing on his mother and his betrayed blood. He is his mother's son. — Victoria Aveyard

I still had sting my eyes, prickling at Maven's memory. It's hard to forget him as he was. No. As he pretended to be. The kind, forgotten boy. The shadow of the flame. — Victoria Aveyard

Maven is very much a haunting presence in 'Glass Sword.' His influence is everywhere, and he dogs Mare and Cal like no other. He's my favorite character to write because he's so complex, but also because he affects everyone else so deeply. He's kind of like the source of gravity. Everyone moves around him and what he's done. — Victoria Aveyard

He leaned back in his seat throwing his hands behind his head; sort of an open offer for the entire bar to get a good look at what he was working with and it was quite impressive. God why did he have to have tattoos? Or the killer smile he was so blatantly using as foreplay. And since when did smiling at a girl count as foreplay? I wasn't sure but I guess Carter was the one living man capable of this. — Maven West

The red library is Sui's tribute to fashion maven Diana Vreeland, who served as editor for Harper's Bazaar (1939-1962) and Vogue (1963-1961). My most precious collection is my bound Vogue magazines, .. and they're kind of like my Bible. I look at them all the time when I'm trying to inspire myself for a collection. — Anna Sui