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“I do not part with my collections easily.'

Collections? The word crawled over Catherine like a spider.”
― J.Z.N. McCauley, The Oathing Stone

“Golden feathers began to fly through the air, and the wedding guests could not at first make sense of it. The oíche sidhe kept whacking and whacking until the serving girl split apart like an overripe plum and became what she had been long ago, though neither she nor the mother who raised her had guessed it---a golden raven, one of the three enchanted birds that the prince had released to bring strife to the kingdom.
The serving girl flitted out the window, free at last, while the oíche sidhe dusted their hands and went smilingly back into hiding. They stopped pomading chickens and turning pajamas into evening wear, which was ultimately a relief to the duchess, who had been down to her last nightgown.
As for the prince, the serving girl's disappearance finally gave him a purpose in life. He retreated to the wilderness to learn magic from witches and any Folk who would teach him. Eventually he succeeded in turning himself into a raven, whereupon he flew off in search of his beloved. In the northeast of Ireland it is said that he is still searching for his golden bride to this day, and that if you listen closely, you can hear her name in the croaking of the ravens.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries

“If the fae found a way around the oath or the curse, they’d seize it, and we’d pay tenfold for having backed them into the corner.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Cost of Curses: A Cursed Magic Novel

“Only in death has the payment be made. Milesian and Sidhe will make this blood trade.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Cost of Curses: A Cursed Magic Novel

“Once quaking with the thunderous hoofbeats of the Wild Hunt, the ground was now littered with the broken limbs of the fallen, swept into the fray by the raging beasts. Bodies fell like autumn leaves, painting the mossy floor red. Their lifeless eyes stared up at the darkened sky, frozen in time, as yet another plea went unanswered by the goddess. They tried, in vain, to do what no other had done before, to rise up against an enemy made of shadows and hate, magic and malice.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Cost of Curses: A Cursed Magic Novel

“There would be no survivors come morning. There never were. The Hunt left no hearts beating. There was no escaping the Sidhe. Not even the Fomorians, the powerful demons from below the sea, had outrun the pale ones and were driven back into the bellies of their waves and waters. But the Milesians were not demons like the Fomori. When they had come to Éire, they had a goddess blessed right to claim, and claim it they would. With spilled blood, unthinkable bargains and curses that would stain generations to come, the Milesians stood their ground.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Cost of Curses: A Cursed Magic Novel

“The Sidhe oathed themselves to the demands of the victors, but nothing was free. Even freedom came with a cost, a debt waiting to be collected. The fading echoes of horses and haunting sounds of horns signaled the end of one era and the beginning of a new age, with the path of sacrifice nearly forgotten by all but the fae.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Cost of Curses: A Cursed Magic Novel

“In the Bone District, the past lingered like a ghost. Every inch held souls long forgotten and stories no one wanted to tell anymore for fear of calling the reason for the tales home to the teller.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Cost of Curses: A Cursed Magic Novel

“The moment I stepped foot on the grounds of Legacy House, a chill ran down my spine, as if the air was saturated with the ghosts of those who were buried beneath my feet. It wasn’t just a feeling of this place being haunted. It was a certainty. Falias had been born into the belly of war, and if a person stayed still long enough, they’d be able to smell the bones of the fallen. Nothing covered up the stench of the fae or the death that trailed behind them like rotting puppy dogs.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Cost of Curses: A Cursed Magic Novel

“I’m not a demon. I am Fomori. And the cost is mine alone. But the oath between the Fomori and Milesians is long over. The next time this happens, and it will, I will let them run amuck in your pretty little town. The Fomori will not carry another debt in your name.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Cost of Curses: A Cursed Magic Novel

“I felt like a gut-torn rodent in the grove, waiting for death.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Cost of Curses: A Cursed Magic Novel

“Make every drop of blood you lose as painful for them as it is for you.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Cost of Curses: A Cursed Magic Novel

“Do not play games with those who thrive on chaos and destruction.
Forget not that fae are masters of cunning and terror,
birthed into the bellies of monsters and suckled from the teat of despair.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Cost of Curses: A Cursed Magic Novel

“One dark spell.
One curser fated to die.
And a sister willing to damn her soul.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“Every spell comes at a cost, and the price of magic will be paid by all.
For the O’Cleary sisters, that lesson may cost one of them their soul.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“The manuscript before me was wrapped in tattered leather and adorned with Ifreann symbols that shifted under the light. Held within its blood-stained pages were the curses and spells the original sins were named after.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“There is no hope or salvation. There is no redemption. They are forever lost. Now a creature of despair, they are a true darkling that suckles from the teat of hell. Kill them before they kill you.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“The Hand of Souls has an insatiable thirst. Its wicked delights are woven into the fabric of fate itself. It’s power drawing in souls like moths to a flame. As daylight fades and shadows lengthen, its cursed nature reaches out like vines in the night, ensnaring its user. Those who grasp the Hand of Souls are forever marked by its twisted touch, eternally intertwined with the darkness that plagues its very existence.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“Holy hell,â€� I whispered as soon as we stepped into the hall leading to Killian’s court. My entire body shivered as it soaked up the energy twisting around us. If rage had a taste, it would be the poisonous nectar that hung in the air of Death House—bitter-sweet and deadly. It smelled like the inside of a used coffin and was just as dark. My skin prickled with a clammy cold sweat, goosebumps rolling over my skin.

“There’s nothing holy about this place.â€� Julian pulled me closer. “I offer you a few words of wisdom in this hellish place. Do not cower here, Fiadh, not for anyone. This is not a place to look weak. Go in there like you own it. Respect is only earned through fear and dominance within these walls, and you don’t want to be seen as the only coward here. The moment they smell weakness, you’re nothing but prey in a room full of blood-thirsty predators.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“Lift your chin, square your shoulders, and be ready to walk on the bones of any who stand in your way. Welcome to Death House. You bow to no one.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“If you touch me in anger again, whether it be by fist or power, I will end you and bring your court to its knees. I will worm my curses and spells so deep into the roots of your territory that it will look like another haunted forest when I’m done. There will be nothing left for the imps to destroy in my name when I am through. I will sell off pieces of my soul to magic just to end you.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“She who dabbles in shadows shall have darkness linger in her soul.
Every spell comes at a cost and the price of magic will be paid by all.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“Where shadows dance and secrets linger,
beware the devil with the silver tongue,
for in their shadows lies the truth of their true nature.
Do not forget who and what they are.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“The flames of hell may scorch the flesh,
but the whispers of devils will sear the soul.
They are temptation and sin.
They are desire and despair.
Be careful where you seek answers.
Not all costs are worth paying.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“Anything can be dark if you wish it to be. Hemlock is a beautiful flower until you use it to take a life.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“Is it worth the cost of your soul?â€�

“That is the price of magic.�

“No, that is the price of being a fool,â€� he answered. “Before this is over, you will become one more story Killian can’t tell anyone. Another memory he wishes he didn’t have.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“The only difference between the fairytale happy endings and a nightmare is who is telling the tale, the victor or the victim. I am both in this story. I burned down my own castle in the end.”
― Lanne Garrett

“I’d never get used to an empty bed. I’d just get used to being haunted by the decisions I had made that put me alone under my covers.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“Do not be swayed by the shimmer of powerâ€�
Not all that glitters is gold.”
― Lanne Garrett, The Price of Magic: A Cursed Magic Novel

“The Winter Gardener" is a similar tale, with the titular gardener replacing the shoemaker, but in this story, the gardener is merely a mortal woman who does not possess a secret identity. After the queen sacrifices herself to save her realm, the gardener plants a snowdrop over her grave, which grows as large as a tree and scatters its seeds across the realm; the tale is often used as an explanation for the perceived advantages of Irish snowdrops over those of other countries.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales