Quote

Tears stung her eyes. She sank her knees next to the sleeping bench and gently raked strands of golden hair from him forehead. Don't you die. don't you dare. I forbid it. As if Han Alister had ever listened to anything she said.

Cinda Williams Chima

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Cinda Williams Chima
Age: 72
Born: 1952
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
Springfield
Ohio
Next
Golden
Forehead
Anything
Dare
Strands
Ever
Tears
Benches
Hair
Foreheads
Raked
Sleep
Gently
Stung
Eyes
Listened
Sank
Dies
Sleeping
Forbid
Eye
Knees
Bench

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But I don't want your throne. Then what do you want? You.
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I have lost everything, Han thought. Then he corrected himself. Every time I think I’ve lost everything, I find there’s still something else to lose.
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Jason settled back on the bench. 'I hate to break this to you, but as a rule, wizards are nasty people. They're powerful, capricious, ruthless, egotistical, used to getting their own way. That's being kind.
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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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Will you give the girl to me? she said. Will you let me try? He nodded, dizzy with relief. Please, Willo. Please. Save her. It doesn't matter...what happens to me.
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Her clothes still smoked from the wizard’s assault. But to him, she always smelled of flowers.
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The time will come when you will be forced to make a choice,” Hanalea said. “When that time comes, choose love.
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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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I continue to believe in miracles. But i know that miracles come to those who work very hard
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Which is a sad thing when you're only seventeen.
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You do not respond to an attempt on your life with a slap on the hand. Or a joke.
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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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He expects nothing, she thought, because he's never had anything. And nothing was expected of him. He was free in a way she never would be.
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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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That's what happens when you love someone... you notice and notice and notice.
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It was one of the warm nights at the end of summer that makes promises that won't be kept.
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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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He swept Raisa up into his arms and kissed her like it was his first, last, and only
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A fiction writer is never entirely alone. Her characters are constantly whispering in her ear.
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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
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