Top 400 Olivie Blake Quotes (2025 Update)
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301. “She knows better than to confuse apologies with affection. People are always sorry, so when he crawls towards her on the mattress she knows to wait for it, to sigh and say, It’s fine, only instead he surprises her, says: I love your brain.”

— Olivie Blake

302. “Isis, smartly: “Well, I’m a demon. I’m always right, especially when it’s annoying.”

— Olivie Blake

303. “How strange it was, being so close to death; looking it in the face, grasping the finery of all its features.”

— Olivie Blake

304. “Maybe that’s the big secret, that even though she hates her feelings, she’d still rather have them than not.”

— Olivie Blake

305. “Capitalism has a terrible tendency to abandon its principles altogether.”

— Olivie Blake

306. “This time, she would close her eyes. She would inhale deeply. She would do what she had done before but this time she would not let herself fail, because she was no longer frightened. She was no longer aching. She was no longer desperate for the crutch of someone else’s faith.”

— Olivie Blake

307. “He knows her relationships are complicated. He knows whose calls she takes and which ones she ignores. He knows, as her doctor doesn’t know, that she isn’t taking her pills. He knows that she hears her mother’s voice in her head and sometimes she loses her own voice inside it; he knows she finds it again when he takes her face in his hands and says: Are you in there?”

— Olivie Blake

308. “She had a distinct ability to take up space, he thought. She made her surroundings part of her dominion, her atmosphere bending to the strike of her stride. Aldo, on the other hand, was typically subjected to the laws and customs of the room.”

— Olivie Blake

309. “They struggled to properly disentwine, or worse. They became strange, molded copies of the other.”

— Olivie Blake

310. “Death. It was incomplete without an audience.”

— Olivie Blake

311. “He didn’t ask for very much from Regan, which was ideal, because she didn’t typically give very much. If they tired of each other, they simply didn’t speak. They were good at occupying each other’s spaces. She often thought of him as an accessory that matched with everything; some sort of magical mood ring that adapted to whatever persona she had currently filled.”

— Olivie Blake

312. “Some people suffer bravely. Some clumsily.” He glanced up, catching Tristan’s look of uncertainty. “Some do so quietly, poetically. Parisa does it stubbornly and pointlessly, going on just to go on. Just to avoid defeat: to feel something more than nothing.”

— Olivie Blake

313. “You know, being routinely accused of psychopathy is starting to get on my nerves,” Parisa said dryly.”

— Olivie Blake

314. “He’d say: I came to look at art, to marvel at something, and here you are and so I will.”

— Olivie Blake

315. “Am I the girl who stays while others leave?”

— Olivie Blake

316. “I’m beginning to understand that the supernatural has its own flavor of tedium,” Vi replied. “I’m starting to wonder if there’s anything in this world that doesn’t ultimately amount to minutiae. Or any other world, for that matter,” she amended, shrugging, “considering we’re all about to be brought down by irresponsible accountancy.”

— Olivie Blake

317. “What he wants to do is get on his bike and go somewhere he can scream into empty air, where he can take a breath that is not full of her just to prove it can still mean something, just in case.”

— Olivie Blake

318. “Bad’ was knowing how sweetly he could kiss her, while seeing just how bitterly the whole thing was a lie.”

— Olivie Blake

319. “For Aldo, to love something was to study it; to devote every spare thought to understanding it.”

— Olivie Blake

320. “The idea that even he didn’t recognize happiness when he felt it was comforting, in some way. She was comforted by knowing he was equally as stupid and hopeless as she was.”

— Olivie Blake

321. “An ending is only an ending, she thought, when both parties agree they’ve reached the end.”

— Olivie Blake

322. “That was all art was, wasn’t it? The blatant exposition of the inside of her head.”

— Olivie Blake

323. “She had hands that itched to be busy, to be occupied by something or another, but it seemed every time she sat down lately, her mind simply went blank.”

— Olivie Blake

324. “The brushstrokes were precisely the artist’s, not hers. It was thievery in every possible aspect of its creation. She had left nothing of herself in its reproduction, merely cloning the vacant starvation that had existed there before, and then she’d done the same another dozen times; proving to herself that, at very least, she could still see, she could still think, she could still interpret.”

— Olivie Blake

325. “There’s something about women, and in particular, women whose survival depends on conscienceless men. Men who have everything are careless with trinkets, and so those trinkets, like Mayra Kaleka, learn to care for themselves, and sometimes, if they are either very blessed or very cursed, they learn to care for others.”

— Olivie Blake

326. “Death was only another word for annihilation.”

— Olivie Blake

327. “He smiled at her like: Isn’t it great? Yes, she thought, pained. Yes, it is perilously wonderful to suffer so sweetly with you.”

— Olivie Blake

328. “You know why you don’t understand me?” Parisa answered Reina’s thoughts, stepping closer to lower her voice. “Because you think you’ve figured me out. You think you’ve met me before, other versions of women like me, but you have no idea what I am. You think my looks are what make me? My ambitions? You can’t begin to know the sum of my parts, and you can stare all you like, but you won’t see a damn thing until I show you.”

— Olivie Blake

329. “The promise of your talents is nothing compared to whatever you ultimately prove to be.”

— Olivie Blake

330. “When you no longer exist, you will have left nothing behind.”

— Olivie Blake

331. “I don’t think it counts as learning it if you don’t know what you learned.”

— Olivie Blake

332. “It’s art because it’s art, which is circular in its way,” she said, and then blinked, that same half-smile lingering at the edges of her mouth when she turned to face him. “A perfect circle, if you will,” she said, “because it is and it was and it will be, all at once.”

— Olivie Blake

333. “She knew, after all, which of his motions looked practiced and which of them did not. He wasn’t accustomed to someone being this close to him. This was visibly unrehearsed.”

— Olivie Blake

334. “Si no usaba esta vida, entonces la estaba desperdiciando.”

— Olivie Blake

335. “He would come to share her joys until he could no longer separate them from his own, and then one day, maybe turning to her at a party or rushing to ask in a text message, he would say: What’s that thing I like? And she would know the answer. She would know everything. Eventually, all the answers to all that he was would be cradled in the palms of her hands.”

— Olivie Blake

336. “Libby Roads was an anxious, impending meltdown whose decisions were based entirely on what she had allowed the world to shape her into. She was more powerful than all of them, except for Nico. And of course she was. Because that was her curse.”

— Olivie Blake

337. “That was the peril of thought. Thoughts were so rarely dismissed once they’d been picked up and toyed with, and a mind successfully altered could rarely, if ever, revert.”

— Olivie Blake

338. “Regan always felt most secure in the hands of a man with no misconceptions of her flaws, because for better or worse, he would not be swayed by the possibility of their resurgence.”

— Olivie Blake

339. “She understands what people want from her, knows when to give it or not. Isn’t that the point? Isn’t that the success of a rebellion, knowing what people want, so to vehemently deny what others so desperately desire?”

— Olivie Blake

340. “A kiss that went on for half a moment, endlessly, and lasted infinitesimally, for years. It was trauma and mortality, legend and mythology.”

— Olivie Blake

341. “She couldn’t prevent the urge to know his thoughts, She wanted to lace them between her fingers, to root them in her hands, to twine them around her limbs until he’d secured her within the invisible web of his carefully ordered madness.”

— Olivie Blake

342. “Because the problem with knowledge, Miss Rhodes, is its inexhaustible craving. The more of it you have, the less you feel you know.”

— Olivie Blake

343. “Yes,” he said – he would have said it to anything, she could have suggested a mutiny and he’d have searched tirelessly for an axe, a pitchfork, Excalibur itself – and she smiled up at him, lifting her chin to permit him full view of her approval. The prospect of it, of anything, buzzed in his veins.”

— Olivie Blake

344. “Here, at the library, their lives would change. Here their former selves would be destroyed, like the library itself, only to be built back up again and hidden in the shadows, never to be seen except by the Caretakers, by the Alexandrians, and by the ghosts of lives uncrossed and paths untaken.”

— Olivie Blake

345. “Memory was a luxury not to be wasted on the unworthy.”

— Olivie Blake

346. “Focus looked right on her, vibrant and bright.”

— Olivie Blake

347. “I ought to defenestrate you from that window.”

— Olivie Blake

348. “She felt a mix of things, soft and hard. Things were compacting and expanding inside her. They’d been there before she’d entered the room, but now that she had left it, she felt exactly the same only worse. The same, only more so.”

— Olivie Blake

349. “He had learned over time to keep his thoughts to himself, which was most easily accomplished if his brain activity was split into categories. His mind was like a computer with multiple applications open, some of them buzzing with contemplation in the background. Most of the time Aldo did not give others the impression he was listening, a suspicion that was generally correct.”

— Olivie Blake

350. “We map things,” he said, “and chart things, observing and modeling and predicting, because we have no other choice, and this is the language we have agreed, collectively, to use. Because we have agreed, collectively, that to proceed without knowledge or understanding is a stupid kind of bravery, an impulsive kind of blindness, but that to be alone without wonder or curiosity is to chip away any possible value we might discover in existing.”

— Olivie Blake