Nehemia Quotes & Sayings

She was shaking so badly that she tucked her hands into her pockets and clamped her lips together to lock up the words.
But they danced in her skull anyway, around and around.
You should have gotten Dorian and Sorscha out the day the king butchered those slaves. Did you learn nothing from Nehemia's death? Did you somehow think you could win with your honor intact, without sacrificing something? You shouldn't have left him; how could you let him face the king alone? How could you, how could you, how could you? — Sarah J. Maas

Fleetfoot turned to look up at Celaena, her golden eyes full of question. Celaena reached down to stroke the warm head, the long ears, the slender muzzle. But the question remained. Celaena said, "She's never coming back." The dog kept waiting. — Sarah J. Maas

Today we are crushed by the sheer weight of the mechanized forces hurled against us, but we can still look to the future in which even greater mechanized forces will bring us victory. Therein lies the destiny of the world. — Charles De Gaulle

Early youth is a baffling time. — Bruce Catton

He snorted and hit me in the solar plexus. I bent over and took hold of the room with both hands and spun it. When I had it nicely spinning I gave it a full swing and hit myself on the back of the head with the floor. — Raymond Chandler

There had been no snow up to this time, but as Diana crossed the old log bridge on her homeward way the white flakes were beginning to flutter down over the fields and woods, russet and gray in their dreamless sleep. Soon the far-away slopes and hills were dim and wraith-like through their gauzy scarfing, as if pale autumn had flung a misty bridal veil over her hair and was waiting for her wintry bridegroom. — L.M. Montgomery

If they let you out," Kaltain said, both of them staring into the blackness of their prisons, "make sure that they're punished someday. Every last one of them."
Celaena listened to her own breathing, felt Chaol's blood under her nails, and the blood of all those men she'd hacked down, and the coldness of Nehemia's room, where all that gore had soaked the bed.
"They will be," Celaena swore to the darkness.
She had nothing left to give, except that. — Sarah J. Maas

If you have a kid who goes to kindergarten and doesn't know what a circle is, doesn't know what red and green are, and doesn't know what right and left are, by the time he learns those things, the rest of the class is far ahead of him. — C. Everett Koop

You have a foul mouth. And to think you kiss your children with it." "According to my mates, my mouth is perfect. And there's nothing dirty about telling the truth. — Eve Langlais

She didn't want to recall how Nehemia had been used - had used herself - against her, to force her to act. Wanted to pretend she wasn't starting to forget what Nehemia had looked like.
"Shift again," Rowan ordered, jerking his chin at her. "This time, try to - "
She was forgetting what Nehemia looked like. The shade of her eyes, the curve of her lips, the smell of her. Her laugh. The roaring in Celaena's head went quiet, silenced by that familiar nothingness.
Do not let that light go out
But Celaena didn't know how to stop it. The one person she could have told, who might have understood . . . She was buried in an unadorned grave, so far from the sun-warmed soil that she had loved. — Sarah J. Maas

I think that it is very interesting to write about a team because a team is a group of people who work in very close quarters and have very intense relationships so - in my days of playing sports, I was very rarely on a team that did not have it's own peculiar dynamic, and you wind up having very intense feelings for good and for bad about these people with whom you spend many hours a day. — Chad Harbach

Wisdom makes things possible. Gratitude makes things bearable. Hope makes things manageable. Joy makes things pleasurable. Love makes things wonderful. — Matshona Dhliwayo

If she herself could change so much in two years, perhaps so could Lysandra.

And for a moment, she wondered how another young woman's life would have been different if she had stopped to talk to her - really talk to Kaltain Rompier, instead of dismissing her as a vapid courtier. What would have happened if Nehemia had tried to see past Kaltain's mask, too. — Sarah J. Maas

Because I made a promise. A promise to my friend that I would see her kingdom freed." She shoved her scarred palm into his face. "I made an unbreakable vow. And you and Maeve - all you gods-damned bastards - are getting in the way of that." She went off down the hillside again. He followed.
"And what of your own people? What of your own kingdom?"
"They are better off without me, just as you said."
His tattoo scrunched as he snarled. "So you'd save another land, but not yours. Why can't your friend save her own kingdom?"
"Because she is dead!" She screamed the last word so loudly it burned in her throat. "Because she is dead, and I am left with my worthless life!"
He merely stared at her with that animal stillness. When she walked away, he didn't come after her. — Sarah J. Maas

I name you Elentiya." She kissed the assassin's brow. "I give you this name to use with honour, to use when other names grow too heavy. I name you Elentiya, 'Spirit That Could Not Be Broken. — Sarah J. Maas

Nehemia stared at him for a long moment before nodding. "You have power in you, Prince. More power than you realize." She touched his chest, tracing a symbol there, too, and some of the court ladies gasped. But Nehemia's eyes were locked on his "It sleeps," she whispered, tapping his heart. "In here. When the time comes, when it awakens, do not be afraid." She removed her hand and game him a sad smile. "When it is time, I will help you. — Sarah J. Maas

Dorian could only stare at her. This was different from the feral creature she'd become the night Nehemia had died. What she was right now, the edge on which she was balancing ... Wyrd help them all.
But than Chaol was at her chair, grasping her elbow. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Celaena looked up at him and smiled sweetly. "Your job, apparently." She shook off his grip with a thrash, then got up from her seat, stalking around the table. — Sarah J. Maas

And then that voice from behind her said her name again.
"Celaena."
They had done this.
Her bloody fingers slid down Dorian's face, to his neck. He just stared at her, suddenly still.
"Celaena," a familiar voice said. A warning.
They had did this. They had betrayed her. Betrayed Nehemia. They had taken her away. Her nail brushed Dorian's exposed throat.
"Celaena," the voice said.
Celaena slowly turned.
Chaol stared at her, a hand on his sword. The sword she'd brought to the warehouse- the sword she'd left there. Archer had told her that Chaol had known they were going to do this.
He had known.
She shattered completely, and launched herself at him. — Sarah J. Maas

Thank you people that are laughing with your hand away from your mouth. That joke is clearly not for everyone, but I enjoy watching people that don't laugh make the people that do laugh feel shitty about themselves. — Daniel Tosh

Nehemia was gone. That vibrant, fierce, loving soul; the princess who had been called the Light of Eyllwe; the woman who had been a beacon of hope - just like that, as if she were no more than a wisp of candlelight, she was gone.
When it had mattered most Celaena hadn't been there.
Nehemia was gone. — Sarah J. Maas

He stared at her; she stared right back.
Unyielding, unbreakable. They'd been cut from the same cloth.
Aedion loosed a breath and looked at their joined hands - then opened his to examine her scarred palm, crisscrossed with the marks of her vow to Nehemia and the cut she'd made the moment she and Rowan became carranam, their magic joining them in an eternal bond.
'It's hard not to think all of your scars are my fault.'
Oh. Oh. — Sarah J. Maas

I've never seen anyone move like she did," Chaol breathed. "I've never seen anyone run that fast. Dorian, it was like..." Chaol shook his head. "I found a horse within seconds of her taking off, and she still outran me. Who can do that?"

Dorian might have dismissed it as a warped sense of time due to fear and grief, but he'd had magic coursing through his veins only moments ago. — Sarah J. Maas

Celaena put a hand against her chest. How absurd - how utterly absurd and useless - that her heart still beat and Nehemia's didn't — Sarah J. Maas

There is no good war or bad peace — Benjamin Franklin

Nehemia looked after Cain, and her dark eyes narrowed. "Something about him makes me want to beat in his face." Celaena laughed. "I'm glad I'm not the only one." Chaol — Sarah J. Maas

I remember my favorite nights were just getting drunk and walking around outside the East Village kicking over garbage cans. Just the night. Just that it would be night again. And you could go out, you know? It just seemed glorious. (Please Kill Me.) — Legs McNeil

The world didn't need an assassin with a coward's heart. It needed someone like Nehemia. — Sarah J. Maas

Anyone who has ever asked for directions knows you need two crucial pieces of information to get good results: a starting point and a destination. — Mike Quigley

I must do something, Elentiya," Nehemia said, using the name she'd given her on the night Celaena admitted that she was an assassin. "I must find a way to help my people. When does gathering information become a stalemate? When do we act?" Celaena — Sarah J. Maas

She scanned the night sky until she located the Stag, the Lord of the North. The unmoving star atop the stag's head - the eternal crown - pointed the way the way to Terrasen. She'd been told that the great rulers of Terrasen turned into those bright stars so their people would never be alone - and would always know the way home. She hadn't set foot there in ten years. While he'd been her master, Arobynn hadn't let her, and afterward she hadn't dared.
She had whispered the truth that day at Nehemia's grave. She'd been running for so long that she didn't know what it was to stand and fight. — Sarah J. Maas

He'd been about to turn away when she lifted her face to the moon and sang.
It was not in any language that he knew. Not in the common tongue, or in Eyllwe, or in the languages of Fenharrow or Melisande, or anywhere else on the continent
This language was ancient, each word full of power and rage and agony.
She did not have a beautiful voice. And many of the words sounded like half sobs, the vowels stretched by the pangs of sorrow, the consonants hardened by anger. She beat her breast in time, so full of savage grace, so at odds with the black gown and veil she wore. The hair on the back of his neck stood as the lament poured from her mouth, unearthly and foreign, a song of grief so old that it predated the stone castle itself.
And the the song finished, its end as butal and sudden as Nehemia's death had been.
She stood there a few moments, silent and unmoving. — Sarah J. Maas

Thank you," Archer said again. She kept walking, listening for any sign of him moving to attack her back. "I knew you were a good woman," he said. Celaena halted. Turned. There was a hint of triumph in his eyes. He thought he'd won. Manipulated her again. One foot after another, she walked back toward him with predatory calmness. She stopped, close enough to kiss him. He gave her a wary smile. "No, I'm not," she said. Then she moved, too fast for him to stand a chance. Archer's eyes went wide as she slid the dagger home, jamming it up into his heart. He sagged in her arms. She brought her mouth to his ear, holding him upright with one hand and twisting the dagger with the other as she whispered, "But Nehemia was. — Sarah J. Maas

It was the least she could do. For Nehemia - for. . . a lot of other people. There was nothing left in her, not really. Only ash and an abyss and the unbreakable vow she'd carved into her flesh, to the friend who had seen her for what she truly was. — Sarah J. Maas

Ah baby, don't you know I'm the only thing wicked here? — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Monster. And yet ... For her friends, for her family, she would gladly be a monster. For Rowan, for Dorian, for Nehemia, she would debase and degrade and ruin herself. — Sarah J. Maas

When Sam had died, she had tucked him into her heart, tucked him alongside her other beloved dead, whose names she kept so secret she sometimes forgot them. But Nehemia - Nehemia wouldn't fit. It was as if her heart was too full of the dead, too full of those lives that had ended well before their time. — Sarah J. Maas

The world slowed to the beat of an ancient, ageless drum.
Celaena behold the room.
The blood was everywhere.
Before the bed, Nehemia's bodyguards lay with their throats cut from ear to ear, their internal organs spilling out onto the floor.
And on the bed ...
On the bed ...
She could hear the shouts growing closer, reaching the room, but their words were somehow muffled, as though she were underwater, the sounds coming from the surface above.
Celaena stood in the center of the freezing bedroom, gazing at the bed, and the princess's broken body atop it.
Nehemia was dead. — Sarah J. Maas

I always write in pencil, so I can erase. — Elsa Peretti

Existential claims have no weight; all knowledge is scientific knowledge. Yet the paradox is that scientific methodology is the product of human hands and thus cannot reach some permanent truth. — Paul Kalanithi

He'd seen the deadness in her eyes that night in the tunnels, along with the wrath and exhaustion and sorrow. He'd see her go over the edge when Nehemia died, and knew what she'd done to Grave in retribution. He didn't doubt for one heartbeat that she could snap again. There was such glittering darkness in her, an endless rift straight through her core. Nehemia's death had shattered her. What he had done, his role in that death, had shattered her, too. He just prayed she could piece herself back together again. — Sarah J. Maas

Rowan swallowed once. Twice. "There was ... there was an uprising at the Calaculla labor camp," he said.
Her heart stumbled on a beat.
"After Princess Nehemia was assassinated, they say a slave girl killed her overseer and sparked an uprising. The slaves seized the camp." He took a shallow breath. "The King of Adarlan sent two legions to get the slaves under control. And they killed them all. — Sarah J. Maas