Best 9 quotes of Rachel Morgan on MyQuotes

A bird is safe when it’s closed in a cage, but it isn’t living. It isn’t flying. You have beautiful wings desperate to stretch out and catch the wind. Don’t. Let. Anyone. Stop you.” “And what happens,” I whisper, “when I fall?” “Then you have someone waiting to catch you. That’s the right kind of safe.

And then I'm dancing, swept away by the music and the magic and Ryn's arms guiding me. We spin graceful circles around the floor. Ryn lets go of me and I twirl beneath his arm, laughing at the same time. It is so not me, and yet I find I'm actually enjoying it. "See?" Ryn says, "This is easy. And you might possibly be having fun." The magic guides me as I step out of Ryn's arms, twirl behind his back, and catch his hand. "You might possibly be right." He pulls me back into position. "Oh, I forgot to tell you something," he says. He leans forward and his lips brush my ear as he whispers, "You are more beautiful than any other girl in this room.

Aren’t faeries supposed to be, like, really tiny? With wings and a wand and faerie dust?” “I’m not Tinker Bell!

Colors shift like smoke within the branch beneath our feet. Sprites jump from leaf to leaf, leaving sprinklings of glittery dust in the air behind them. Droplets of water are strung like pearls from the silver strands of a spider’s web. Bluebottle glow-bugs stick to the leaves and branches, lighting up the night with their blue-green bodies. And high above us, clouds are draped like sashes of color across the sky. Amethyst, azure, jade.

Creepy Hollow?” He snorts. “Like Sleepy Hollow?” “No, like Creepy Hollow. It has nothing to do with sleeping.

Give me the setting sun, and I’ll be a richer man than most. For never have I seen gold like that which glows above the earth. Give me the night sky, and I’ll be the richest man for sure. For never have I seen diamonds like those that dance beside the moon.

Instead of fighting it, I close my eyes and let myself go. I feel the muscles of his shoulder beneath my hand. The frame his arms create is strong, secure, but I want those arms tighter around me. Much tighter around me. Much tighter, much closer. I want there to be no space at all between us. I. Want. Him. So. Badly. I want to kiss him, laugh with him, cry with him, share every freaking moment of my life with him because no matter how many awful things he's done in the past, I can't shake the undeniable feeling that when his arms are around me, I'm home.

Seeing him standing there in his boxers and hoodie with sticking-up hair, one sock pulled up to his calf, the other scrunched around his ankle, and his glasses just a tiny bit skew, my wildly beating heart falls in love with him all over again.

You don’t understand. The closer I get to the edge, the more it feels like the ground is tilting. Like it’s getting steeper and steeper and I’m sliding towards the edge, and if I don’t hold onto something I’ll slide right off and plummet to the ground.” “What if,” I say quietly, “you hold onto me?