Best 81 quotes in «kaz brekker quotes» category

Then tailor him," Kaz said coldly. The challenge in Kaz's eyes was clear. So he knew she'd been struggling. Of course he did. Dirtyhands never missed a trick.

The silence between them was dark water. He could not cross it. He couldn't walk the line between the decency she deserved and the violence this path demanded. If he tried, it might get them both killed. He could only be who he truly was--a boy who had no comfort to offer. So he would give her what he could.

Thoughts of moonlight and silken hair evaporated in a black bolt of fury. Kaz saw Inej tug on the sleeve of her left forearm, where the Menagerie tattoo had once been. He had the barest inkling of what she'd endured there, but he knew what it was to feel helpless, and Van Eck had managed to make her feel that way again. Kaz was going to have to find a new language of suffering to teach that smug merch son of a bitch.

To his left, he heard Inej laugh behind her mask. He'd never heard her laugh like that, giddy and wild.

Waiting was the part of the criminal life so many people got wrong. They wanted to act instead of hold fast and gather information. They wanted to know instantly without having to learn. Sometimes the trick to getting the best of a situation was just to wait. If you didn't like the weather, you didn't rush into the storm - you waited until it changed. You found a way to keep from getting wet.

Wait,” he said. The burn of his voice was rougher than usual. “Is my tie straight?” Inej laughed, her hood falling back from her hair. “That’s the laugh,” he murmured, but she was already setting off down the quay, her feet barely touching the ground.

We’ll fight our way out together,” Inej whispered. Nina glanced from Inej to Kaz and saw they both wore the same expression. Nina knew that look. It came after the shipwreck, when the tide moved against you and the sky had gone dark. It was the first sight of land, the hope of shelter and even salvation that might await you on a distant shore.

What a luxury to turn your back on luxury.

What is wrong with him?" Nina grumbled as they went back to the sitting room to drill Colm on his cover story. "Same thing that's always wrong with him," said Jesper. "He's Kaz Brekker.

Wylan summoned every bit of bravado he'd learned from Nina, the will he'd learned from Matthias, the focus he'd studied in Kaz, the courage he'd learned from Inej, and the wild, reckless hope he'd learned from Jesper, the belief that no matter the odds, somehow they would win.

You can't spend his money if you're dead." "I'll acquire expensive habits in the afterlife.

You'll get what's coming to you some day, Brekker." "I will," said Kaz, "if there's any justice in the world. And we all know how likely that is.

You must find a way to make peace," said Inej. "At least for a while." "This is not your concern," Matthias growled. Kaz stepped forward, his expression dangerous. "It is very much our concern. And watch your tone.

You're a blackmailer--" "I broker information." "A con artist--" "I create opportunity." "A bawd and a murderer--" "I don't run whores, and I kill for a cause." "And what cause is that?" "Same as yours, merch. Profit." "How do you get your information, Mister Brekker?" "You might say I'm a lockpick." "You must be a very gifted one." "I am indeed." Kaz leaned back slightly. "You see, every man is a safe, a vault of secrets and longings. Now, there are those who take the brute's way, but I prefer a gentler approach--the right pressure applied at the right moment, in the right place. It's a delicate thing.

There is no safe," Kaz snarled. "Not in the Barrel. Not anywhere." He threw his strength into rowing. No seal. No ship. Their money spent. "What do we do now?" Wylan said quietly, his voice barely audible above the sound of the water and the other boats on the canal. "Pick up a pair of oars and make yourself useful," said Kaz. "Or I'll put your pampered ass in the drink and let your father fish you out.

Wylan didn't think he imagined the tension in the rasp of Kaz's voice. Kaz never yelled the way Wylan's father did, but Wylan had learned to listen for that low note, that bit of black harmony that crept into Kaz's tone when things were about to get dangerous.

And Inej was wrong about one thing. He knew exactly what he intended to leave behind when he was gone. Damage.

You came back for me.” “I protect my investments.” Investments. “I’m glad I’m bleeding all over your shirt.

You’re the one getting ready to bolt, Jesper. You just want me to run with you so you don’t have to feel so bad about it. For all your love of a fight, you’re always the first to talk about running for cover.” “I made a mistake. I let my bad get the best of my good, but for Saints’ sake, Kaz, how long are you going to make me pay for a little forgiveness? [...] How many times have I had your back in a fight? How many times have I gotten it right? Doesn’t that count for anything?” Jesper threw up his hands. “I can’t win with you. No one can.

And what god do you serve, then?” “Whichever will grant me good fortune.” “I don’t think gods work that way.” “I don’t think I care.

Before you finish that sentence, I want you to think about what a promise from me costs and what you're willing to pay for it.

At some point, Jesper realized Kaz was gone. "Not one for goodbyes, is he?" he muttered. "He doesn't say goodbye," Inej said. She kept her eyes on the lights of the canal. Somewhere in the garden, a night bird began to sing. "He just lets go.

Curse you and all your Saints,' he said to no one at all, then realized he was smiling.

Everything is a negotiation with you, Brekker. You probably bartered your way out of the womb.

Greed is your god, Kaz." He almost laughed at that. "No, Inej. Greed bows to me. It is my servant and my lever.

Has she at least done it before?" said Kaz. "For this purpose?" asked Sturmhond. "I've seen her do it twice. It worked splendidly. Once".

Has anyone noticed this whole city is looking for us, mad at us, or wants to kill us?" "So?" said Kaz. "Well, usually it's just half the city.

He'd known even then, though: He'd start as a grunt, but the Dregs would become his army.

He didn't mean to say it. He meant to let her go. "I can help you.

Be the thing they all fear when they close their eyes at night.

Brick by brick. Brick by brick, I will destroy you. "It was the promise that let him sleep at night, that drove him every day, that kept Jordie's ghost at bay. Because a quick death was too good for Pekka Rollins.

Compromise," Kaz said. " 'I'm sorry' does the trick and uses fewer bullets.

Crows remember human faces. They remember the people who feed them, who are kind to them. And the people who wrong them too. They don’t forget. They tell each other who to look after and who to watch out for.

He knew exactly what he intended to leave behind when he was gone. Damage.

He grinned at her, his smile sudden and jarring as a thunderclap, his eyes the near-black of bitter coffee. "We'll be kings and queens, Inej. Kings and Queens.

He might as well go to meet his death in style.

He might as well go to meet his death is style.

He needed a gang, and not just any gang, but one that needed him.

He nodded to her right forearm, not trusting himself to speak. His gloves lay on the other side of the basin, black against the gold-veined marble. They looked like dead animals. He focused on the shears, cold metal in his hands, nothing like skin. He could not do this if his hands were shaking. I can best this, he told himself.

He saw that Jesper was staring at his hands. "What were you expecting?" Kaz growled. "Claws, at least,"Jesper said, shifting his gaze to his own bony feet. "Possibly a spiny thumb.

He's horrible." "But effective. Being angry at Kaz for being ruthless is like being angry at a stove for being hot.

Everything in him recoiled. The water was cold against his legs. His body had gone numb and yet he could still feel the wet give of his brother's rotting flesh beneath his hands. It's shame that eats men whole. He was drowning in it. Drowning in the Ketterdam harbor. His eyes blurred. "It isn't easy for me either." Her voice, low and steady, the voice that had once led him back from hell.

He was a wounded animal who needed to be put down. And Kaz had done it gladly, choked the life from him without pause for regret. The Kaz that remained saw only the job: Free Inej. Make Van Eck pay. The rest was useless noise.

How do you get your information, Mister Brekker?" "You might say I'm a lockpick." "You must be a very gifted one." "I am indeed." Kaz leaned back slightly. "You see, every man is a safe, a vault of secrets and longings. Now, there are those who take the brute's way, but I prefer a gentler approach - the right pressure applied at the right moment, in the right place. It's a delicate thing." "Do you always speak in metaphors, Mister Brekker?" Kaz smiled. "It's not a metaphor." He was out of his chair before his chains hit the ground.

He was a collection of hard lines and tailored edges.

He stood leaning on his cane, hair neatly pushed back from his pale brow, a black glass boy of deadly edges.

He swept the red cloak around Inej's shoulders in a rain of petals and blossoms as she continued to strap on her knives. She looked almost as startled as the flower seller. "What?" he asked as he tossed her a Mister Crimson mask that matched his own. "Those were my mother's favorite flower." "Good to know Van Eck didn't cure you of sentiment." "Nice to be back, Kaz." "Good to have you back, Wraith.

I can hear the change in Kaz's breathing when he looks at you. You... you can? It catches every time, like he's never seen you before.

I don't want your prayers, he said. What do you want, then? The old answers came easily to mind. Money. Vengeance. Jordie's voice in my head silenced forever. But a different reply roared to life inside him, loud, insistent, and unwelcome. You, Inej. You.

I'm pragmatic. If I were cruel, I'd give him an eulogy instead of a conversation.