Best 23 quotes of Sarah Cross on MyQuotes

A naked blade hid nothing, feared nothing. She wanted to be like that. Because that was how you found yourself, created yourself. You didn't hide. You didn't wait for the perfect moment to settle on you like a butterfly, like magic. You went out and made magic. Made your own wishes come true.

Art is a kind of magic. Creativity is mysterious, even to artists, who might be able to name their inspiration but can't always explain how their influences and experiences came together to create this new thing- this painting, this story, this song. If you break art down to its base elements, there's nothing miraculous about the letters of the alphabet or a drop of paint. But an artist can put those elements together to create something powerful, something that moves us and withstands the test of time. A work that no one but that artist could have imagined, let alone created.

Art is magic, and art is powerful. Art saves lives- I really believe that. It gives us courage and compassion we might not have on our own.

As an artist, her imagination isn't fettered by the constraints of reality.

Birthdays were wretched, delicious things when you lived in Beau Rivage. The clock stuck midnight, and presents gave way to magic. Curses bloomed. Girls bit into sharp apples instead of birthday cake, chocked on the ruby-and-white slivers, and collapsed into enchanted sleep. Unconscious beneath cobweb canopies, frozen in coffins of glass, they waited for their princes to come. Or they tricked ogres, traded their voices for love, danced until their glass slippers cracked. A prince would awaken, roused by the promise of true love, and find he had a witch to destroy. A heart to steal. To tear from the rib cage, where it was cushioned by bloody velvet, and deliver it to the queen who demanded the princess's death. Girls became victims and heroines. Boys became lovers and murderers. And sometimes... they became both.

But Clary's a hero at heart- and that means she'll find a way to be the hero she needs to be, to look beyond the skills she doesn't have and draw on the skills she does have to ultimately save the day.

Curiosity killed the brat.

Dusty didn’t lust after him like her stepsisters did—he seemed like kind of an idiot. But she could recognize that he was also a prize. And it was no secret that he had a Prince Charming curse—he’d been naked in public often enough for everyone to know about the mark on his back. So when Prince hot idiot’s family threw a three-day fancy dress ball to celebrate his college graduation, Dusty made up her mind to go. But first, she needed a dress.

Everyone loves a kick-ass girl. (Well- maybe not her enemies, but you know what I mean.)

He kissed her lightly on the nose, and she laughed. Blue eyed her with faux seriousness. "How was that? Any weakness?" "No. But I don't think there would have been anyway." "Well, then, how about this?" His lips brushed hers, his mouth teasing her lower lip, and her eyes closed and she shivered as his fingers caught her hair. And then suddenly, there wasn't any space between them. The sensation of drowning was there, but it wasn't like her strength was leaving her. It was like she wanted to be part of him. Like she didn't know or care where she ended and he began. When they drew apart, she whispered, "No weakness." "Really?" he said. "'Cause I'm feeling a little weak." She felt him smile against her mouth. And they both laughed, shook with it. Their faces were too close, noses and cheeks pressed awkwardly together, but neither one of them moved. She tightened her arms around him, and he held her just as tightly. His breath murmured against her cheek. "You're safe with me, Mira. And I'm safe with you.

I'm swimming," Caspian announced. "Sort of. Do you think that will interfere with my mermaid search? If I fall into the ocean and I'm not drowning, do you think she'll bother to save me?" "I think your mermaid probably has a life," Wills said..."You can't count on her to be waiting around for you every day. So drowning on purpose makes you an idiot.

It freaks me out they're sort of involved, and yet, one day, Viv's stepmom is going to order Henley to kill Viv." "Tell me about it." Blue switched to an exaggerated shrewish voice. "By the way, garden boy, when you'e done trimming the hedges, could you cut out my daughter's heart and bring it to me so I can eat it? That's a lot to ask of someone you're paying minimum wage.

It seared her senses; it made her feel alive, even as it sucked that life away - and she kept coming back to it, again and again. Waves of sensation pulled her under - drowning her. But Blue made drowning feel like the loveliest thing. Like she was losing her breath, but she didn't need it, didn't want it, only wanted him.

It's her ability as an artist to see possibility where others see a blank page and, by extension, to see victory where others see certain defeat that truly empowers her...

Mira, I'm about to be naked," Blue said as he whipped off his belt and tossed it on the floor. "So watch out. Well, in my underwear." "I've seen you in your bathing suit," Mira said. "It's the same thing." "It is not the same thing," Blue said. "When it's accompanied by seventies porn music, it's an X-rated strip show." Blue yanked off his shirt. "Freddie, you're kind of slow on the uptake. Eine kleine porn music, please.

Mira sat down on the rim of the fountain. The marble ledge was damp, and mist sprinkled her skin. Coins shimmered under the water like fish scales. She counted them, each one a wish, and wondered how love could be anything but good.

Not every girl can be Isabelle Lightwood or Katniss Everdeen. I think the true measure of a hero is what a person does with what they have, how hard they are willing to fight, and how far they are willing to go to set things right.

We live vicariously through stories, because our own lives provide so few opportunities for high-stakes adventure and noble sacrifice.

You couldn't hide from bad things and pretend they didn't exist–that left you with a dream world, and dream worlds eventually crumbled. You had to face the truth. And then decide what you wanted.

You crazy liar," he said breathlessly. "You knew I was lying." "Not to - that degree." "Okay, so maybe I like you a little.

You don't like Blue, do you?" "No," Mira said, caught off guard by the change of subject. "I was worried he was doing his knight-in-tarnished-armor thing and it was winning you over.

You know me. I'll hurt you. Welcome home.

You're - you're something else, someone really special, and I feel completely justified in being in love with you.