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“You can't force love, I realized. It's there or it isn't. If it's not there, you've got to be able to admit it. If it is there, you've got to do whatever it takes to protect the ones you love.”
― Richelle Mead, Frostbite

“You know what would help?" I asked, not meeting his eyes.

"Hmm?"

"If you turned off this crap music and put on something that came out after the Berlin Wall went down."

Dimitri laughted. "Your worst class is history, yet somehow, you know everything about Eastern Europe."

"Hey, gotta have material for my jokes, Comrade." Still smiling, he turned the radio dail. To a country station.

"Hey! This isn't what I had in mind," I exclaimed. I could tell he was on the verge of laughing again.

"Pick. It's one or the other."

I sighed. "Go back to the 1980s stuff."

He flipped the dail, and I crossed my arms over my chest as some vaguely European-sounding band sang about how video had killed the radio star. I wished someone would kill this radio.”
― Richelle Mead, Frostbite

“I steeled myself for the next response. I knew it was going to be one of the Zen life lessons. [...]
Instead he kissed me.”
― Richelle Mead, Frostbite

“Sweat isn't a bad thing," he said, leaning his head against the wall thoughtfully. "Some of the best things in life happen while your sweating. Yeah, if you get too much of it and it gets old and stale, it turns pretty gross. But on a beautiful women? Intoxicating. If you could smell things like a vampire does, you'd know what I'm talking about. Most people mess it all up and drown themselves in perfume. Perfume can be good...especially if you get one that goes with your chemistry. But you only need a hint. Mix about 20 percent of that with 80 percent of your own perspiration...mmm." He tilted his head to the side and looked at me. "Dead sexy.”
― Richelle Mead, Frostbite

“It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. You can let go of the sword."
"I can’t. I can’t leave him alone. I have to protect him."
"You have.”
― Richelle Mead, Frostbite