Esther Quotes

“While Leo fussed over his helm controls, Hazel and Frank relayed the story of the fish-centaurs and their training camp.
'Incredible,' Jason said. 'These are really good brownies.'
'That's your only comment?' Piper demanded.
He looked surprised. 'What? I heard the story. Fish-centaurs. Merpeople. Letter of intro to the Tiber River god. Got it. But these brownies--'
'I know,' Frank said, his mouth full. 'Try them with Ester's peach preserves.'
'That,' Hazel said, 'is incredibly disgusting.'
'Pass me the jar, man,' Jason said.
Hazel and Piper exchanged a look of total exasperation. Boys.”
― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena

“Oddly, the most freeing thing we can ever do is to abdicate the throne of our own miniature kingdoms.”
― Beth Moore

“...when things are very beautiful and comfortable on the surface, it can be harder to see the ugliness underneath.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“You can't save someone from their own decisions.”
― Jack Croxall, Tethers

“She was a person made for the present, not the past. She couldn't afford to forget that.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“It amazed her, how once the unfamiliar became well-known you could never go back.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“If she left- when she left- Antarctica would be a memory, than a memory of a memory, and eventually it would just be a story. Pearl would be just a story, a swirl of remembered feelings, someone she'd talk about at bars to strangers who would become friends and then strangers again.

All these stories, what did they add up to?

A life?”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“She just wanted to take one step that belonged to her, make one move that she had independently decided to make, but at every turn it felt as if her strings were being pulled by unseen hands.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“Le bon côté du temps qui passe trop lentement, c’est qu’il finit quand même par passer : la fin de l’année approche.”
― Riad Sattouf, Les Cahiers d'Esther : Histoires de mes 12 ans

“Later, as the sisters grew, Esther hyperfocused on their differences, but as a little kid she'd been far more hypnotised by their sameness. They both loved chewing lemon peels and watermelon rinds, loved pictures of goats but not actual goats, loved putting sand in their hair so they could scratch it out later, loved watching their parents slow-dance in the living room to Motown records. They loved the sound of the wind, the sound of breaking ice, the sound of coyotes calling on the mountain.

They disliked zippers, ham, the word 'milk', flute music, the gurgling sound of the refrigerator, Cecily's long weekends away, Abe's insistence on regular chess matches, and days with no clouds. They disliked the boxes of books that came to their door daily or were lugged home by their father, disliked their dusty lonesome smell and how they consumed Abe's attention. They disliked when their parents closed the bedroom door and fought in whispers. They hated the phrase 'half sister.' There had been no half about it.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“... every word and movement made with a heightened sense of surreality, as if she could reach out a hand and alter the fabric of the world. That's what killing was, wasn't it? To remove someone from existence was to rip a hole in what was real.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“He'd never felt so passionately all-caps about another person as Pearl seemed to feel about Esther, and certainly no one had ever felt that way about him. He expected to be sad about this realisation and instead found that he was mostly curious. Maybe if he really did manage to get free of the Library once and for all, if he began to lead a life on his own terms, all-caps was a feeling he himself might someday find.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“But the mass itself had been so boring that even her fantasies of rescuing Jesus and giving him a tender, thorough sponge bath couldn't keep her awake.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“Her whole childhood, she'd devoured stories of children with dead and missing mothers, often easier to find than stories of children whose mothers were alive and well. The absence of a mother was a promise of adventure; mothers made things too safe, too comforting. Children with mothers didn't need to look outside their homes for affirmation of their supremacy in someone's story. They didn't need to write their own protagonism.

Esther remembered Cecily complaining about this when they'd watched The Little Mermaid, Cinderella, and Snow White, offended by the lack of loving birth mothers and the prevalence of monstrous stepmothers. She'd squeezed Esther tight and smeared her cheek with red kisses and said, 'This evil stepmother loves you very much.' But despite Cecily's love, which Esther had never doubted, she had already identified within herself the same motherless quality that drove Ariel to shore, Cinderella to the ball, Snow White into the forest. Her motherlessness was intrinsic to her sense of self, and her sense of self was all she had these many years alone.

What would it mean if her mother was alive? Not only alive, but aware of Esther and watching out for her, passing notes through magic mirrors and protecting her from afar, her own fairy godmother. What would it mean if her mother had not died, but left her?”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“I fell in love with you first,' Cecily always said to Esther. 'Your father was a bonus.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“Killing had been added, suddenly, to the list of what she was capable of. It had gone from unthinkable to possible. Was this how people tipped over into darkness?”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“Crystals of old honey on her body's tongue, long hardened, were loosening in the warmth of her spilling blood, turning from grain to syrup, a slow sweet hum of wings unfurling from deep within her and looping outward, solid and multitudinous, the comb in her chest and the workers in her veins, and the hive all around her.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“Cries of joy rose in the city as copies of the decree were fastened to the walls of the king's gate and at prominent places throughout the capital.
Esther stood near, watching the frantic work. Awe that God had used her for this moment caused joy to rise up within her. When she heard the singing and laughter of the people outside, she wanted to weep and dance at the same time.
Was this why You placed me here, Adonai? She had always wondered what possible reason there could have been for her to be so chosen. Surely other women were more beautiful than she. Surely other women had captured Xerxes' heart. With a Persian wife in Amestris who had given him sons, there had been no need for him to seek another wife. Even if he missed Vashti, it wasn't like he needed more.
And yet here she stood, watching her father, second in command to the throne, write letters to every satrap, governor, high officer, and noble in all 127 provinces of her husband's kingdom. All because God saw fit to use her.
Her. Hadassah.
Her face heated with the humbling thought. How unworthy she felt, yet how blessed.”
― Jill Eileen Smith, Star of Persia:

“As dawn broke the next morning, she looked on Xerxes with a love she had never felt before, love and gratitude to Adonai. She had not wanted this life. Would not have picked it, given the choice. But she could not deny that God had been with her all along and chosen her to live with this man for this season in history.
As she gazed on her sleeping husband, then toward the sun peeking through the curtains surrounding them, she smiled. Her life was not her own. She belonged to her Creator. The plans He had for her were for good and not for evil. To give her and her people a future and a hope.”
― Jill Eileen Smith, Star of Persia:

“A sense of isolation so complete it was almost a sound, a grim buzz, the way she imagined magic sounded.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“Promise me something,' she said.

'I'll promise you anything I can without lying to you again.'

Pearl nodded. 'If magic really does exist, and you really can erase my memory, and I let you do it- you have to promise to come find me again once you're safe. You have to promise me to tell me everything that happened, and tell me again about your parents, and the books. Fill in all the blanks. I don't want to forget forever. I want to know.' She took a shuddering breath. 'But I don't think I can handle knowing right now. Alone.'

Esther wanted this to be a promise she could keep. 'Yes,' she said. 'I promise.'

'Swear it to me,' said Pearl, extending her little finger, but instead Esther uncurled her other fingers and pressed a kiss to her palm.

'I swear it.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“There's one thing I don't want you to forget,' she said to Pearl. 'Even with your concussion. I don't want you to forget that I really care about you. More than I've cared about anyone in a long, long time. Whatever happens next... that isn't going to change.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“The ground was endless, white, receding. The station dollhouse-sized and then teacup-sized and then ant-sized and then gone.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“She had done this so many times: watched a twelve-month life recede below her as she flew away from it. A year felt so long unless it was all you had.”
― Emma Törzs

“Not used to visiting the houses of commoners, awe we, Prince Nicholas?'

'I'm not a prince,' said Nicholas. 'Technically, I'm a very minor baron.'

'Excuse me, your majesty.'

'The correct honorific is my lord.'

'No,' said Esther. 'Not even as a joke.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“Not used to visiting the houses of commoners, are we, Prince Nicholas?'

'I'm not a prince,' said Nicholas. 'Technically, I'm a very minor baron.'

'Excuse me, your majesty.'

'The correct honorific is my lord.'

'No,' said Esther. 'Not even as a joke.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“Even without understanding the words, her sister's voice hit Joanna like a hammer against glass. It was unchanged, that voice. It sounded like Joanna's childhood, sunlit and safe and gone.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“If this is the book I think it is... I'm relatively certain it's human.'

A hot, sour feeling rose in the back of Esther's throat. 'What do you mean, human?'

'I mean the thread looks like it could be a combination of hair and sinew. The glue is likely rendered collagen.' He pinched the cover between thumb and forefinger. 'The leather's probably human skin.'

'Okay,' Collins said, 'great, well, if you need me, I'll be outside screaming.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“Her grief had felt so heavy and she had wanted to find somewhere to put it, a container big enough and strong enough and old enough to hold it.

She'd wanted to share it.”
― Emma Törzs, Ink Blood Sister Scribe

“Esther is gone. I am Hadassah again.
There is a peace that comes when you lose everything. Once, I wielded the power of an empire to save my people. That knowledge is my crown, the throne I sit upon when my losses haunt me.
I survived the sharp edge of palace intrigue long enough to complete the hard tasks that God laid before me. And somehow, on that arduous journey, I made a handful of true friends. You might even say I changed a few lives.”
― Tessa Afshar, The Queen's Cook