Shannon Hale

Briar stood, pushing up her sleeves. 'It's about to get all nonfiction in here'.

Don't beat yourself up," said Charlotte. "True love can be so easily mistaken for other things-friendship, humane concern, indigestion...

He had a dashing smile. It nearly dashed right off his face.

...first thing is that I love you. And the second thing is that as much as I honor your former profession, I don__ think your geese care much for your betrothed and I hope they hadn__ any plans on sharing our bed.

I__ sorry, my lady,_ said Geric, rubbing his arm. __ut I failed to force an apology out of the offending goose.

If it had been a color, it might have been green. If it had touched her ears, it might have sounded rhythmic, like the creak of a rocking chair or drone of a bee. If it had a scent, it might have been sweet and drowsy, like fresh pine on the fire.

Rin thought of the crossbow bolt. Of the whoosh and sting of wind and fire heat and the man who would have killed her. Of pushing in front of Enna. Of almost dying. Of home and Ma and being farther away than the lands in tales, and maybe never going home. Of standing by a strange tree in a faraway wood with girls who spoke the language of fire. Of a queen of Kel who wanted them dead.

A cat can make you feel well rested when you're tired or turn a rage into a calm just by sitting on your lap. His very nearness is a healing song.

There you go...let it all slide out. Unhappiness can't stick in a person's soul when it's slick with tears.

I wish stories were kinder to their characters," Maddie said. "But I guess trouble is more interesting to read about.

They weren't nice words he said. He could've lived a good life and died never having made a person feel rubbed down to bones and too sad to hold together.

Maybe I got a few words wrong, but that's so near how the conversation went, I'm going to call it truth.

Life feels like fall of itself.""'A dream within a dream.""And I want to wake up.

Life feels like fall of itself.__'A dream within a dream.___nd I want to wake up.

...even if things were broken right now. Sometimes it was the cracks that let the light in.

Look no farther than your hand,Make a choice and take a stand.

That year, when the trees burned the fire of late summer into their leaves and the ground mist was a ghost of the river, long and wet and cold, the aunt looked from her windows to the walls around her and imagined another winter inside them. She began to see the world as a bird sees bars, and she scratched her arms beneath her sleeves.

Mama used to say, you have to know someone a thousand days before you can glimpse her soul.