Throne of Glass

After all, you aren’t Adarlan’s Assassin for nothing.

“My name is Celaena Sardothien,” she whispered. “But it makes no difference if my name’s Celaena or Lillian or Bitch, because I’d still beat you, no matter what you call me.”

He didn’t know why, but seeing her made him feel like a man.

I am Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan’s Assassin. If these men knew who I was, they’d stop laughing. I am Celaena Sardothien. I am going to win. I will not be afraid.

When she awoke every morning, she repeated the same words: I will not be afraid. For a year, those words had meant the difference between breaking and bending; they had kept her from shattering in the darkness of the mines.

“I’m saying that in four years, I’m going to be free, and I’ve never been free in my entire life.” Her smile grew. “And I want to know what that feels like.”

“I can’t be with you if I’m the King’s Champion.”

“My love for Eyllwe drowns out my fear of the King of Adarlan.

Magic calls to magic

“I cannot give you my strength.” She traced her fingers across Celaena’s brow. “But I can remove this poison from your body.”