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He would find a way to make it work, because he finally understood that sometimes you have to raise your expectations. And sometimes you need to make a claim on the world and the people you love to get what you most desire
Cinda Williams Chima
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Cinda Williams Chima
Age: 72
Born: 1952
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
Springfield
Ohio
Would
Desire
Love
Find
Claim
World
Need
Raise
People
Sometimes
Raises
Needs
Claims
Work
Finally
Way
Expectations
Make
Understood
More quotes by Cinda Williams Chima
He swept Raisa up into his arms and kissed her like it was his first, last, and only
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If you want to be a writer, you must be in love with the process of writing, whether you achieve financial success or not.
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Don't expect much and you won't be disappointed.
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Plus he was naturally lucky at cards. As Mam had always said, lucky at cards, or lucky at life. One or the other. Not both.
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(A)ny time you buy weapons, or build an army, you begin to look for an excuse to use them. Plus, you pose more of a threat to others.
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And they always slept better with blades beneath their beds.
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But maybe it's better to go after something, and not get it, than to not even try.
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But I don't want your throne. Then what do you want? You.
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A vocation is not something you slap on, like a coat of paint, and change whenever you want. A vocation is built into you. You have no choice. If you try to do something else, you fail.
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You couldn’t keep your mouth shut? I’m calling you Glitterhair from now on. Or Talksalot.
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Ellen could have killed me, Jack said quietly, but she didn't. She saved my life. How come? Fitch demanded. After all this? Ellen turned scarlet and stared at the ground. Maybe none of my opponents ever gave me flowers before, she mumbled.
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Which is a sad thing when you're only seventeen.
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And it's not just a matter of you hurting me. I will hurt you too, even if I don't want to, I'm not the girl you think I am. And you will remember this conversation , and wish that you'd listened to me.
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My tagline is ‘Less sex, more romance, lower body count.’
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A fiction writer is never entirely alone. Her characters are constantly whispering in her ear.
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You didn't have to go to the fireworks with him. Or - or let him fondle you. Fondle? Raisa raised her eyebrows, When did I mention fondling?
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Just tell me you don't love me, and I'll let the matter drop. What? What I said. Just say, 'Rai, I don't love you and I never will'. It's that simple. Raisa, this is getting us nowhere. Say it!
Cinda Williams Chima
His aster-blue eyes shown out from a face blackened by bruises and soot, his fair hair glittering in the firelight. Dressed all in black, silhouetted against flame, he looked rather like a demon, raised from the dead, trading for souls on the other side.
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Both Averill and Bayar were like actors speaking lines for their audience and not to each other.
Cinda Williams Chima
She had never felt more alive than when she lay dying in Han Alister's arms.
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