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He bowed. 'The young lady must not dance alone.

Gail Carson Levine

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Gail Carson Levine
Age: 77
Born: 1947
Born: September 17
Author
Writer
New York
United States
Must
Bowed
Lady
Dance
Alone
Young

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To pretend I was sliding down the stair rail. He laughed again. You should have done it. I would have caught you at the bottom.
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Although we didn't invite Lucinda, she arrived anyway-with a gift. No need, Char and I chimed together. Remember when you were a squirrel, Mandy said.
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The Writer's Oath I promise solemnly: 1. to write as often and as much as I can, 2. to respect my writing self, and 3. to nurture the writing of others. I accept these responsibilities and shall honor them always.
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When you become a teenager, you step onto a bridge. You may already be on it. The opposite shore is adulthood. Childhood lies behind. The bridge is made of wood. As you cross, it burns behind you
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I had always been the hardest on myself when I drew and painted. I am not hard on myself when I write. I like what I write, so it is a much happier process.
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Kisses were better than potions.
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Crying is part of the adventure.
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Father asks frequently in his letters whether I fancy any Ayorthaian young lady or any in our acquaintance at home. I say no I suppose I'm confessing another fault: pride. I don't want him to know that I love if my affections are not returned
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I rode all day. I cried all night. The moon didn’t glow. The sun didn’t rise. A comet blazed Between my eyes. West and South, Wind and rain. Every way is Just the same. Pray give me a box To hide inside. Pray give me a spade To dig my own grave.
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Voices and faces aren't manifestations of good or bad.
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But my last conscious thought was an image of Prince Char when he'd caught the bridle of Sir Stephan's horse. His face had been close to mine. Two curls had spilled onto his forehead. A few freckles dusted his nose, and his eyes said he was sorry for me to go.
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When I write, I make discoveries about my feelings.
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Oak, granite, Lilies by the road, Remember me? I remember you. Clouds brushing Clover hills, Remember me? Sister, child, Grown tall, Remember me? I remember you.
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That's funny, you're funny. I like you, I'm quite taken by you.
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I trust you to find the good in me, but the bad I must be sure you don't overlook.
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There's nothing wrong with reading a book you love over and over.
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Why do you keep reading a book? Usually to find out what happens. Why do you give up and stop reading it? There may be lots of reasons. But often the answer is you don't care what happens. So what makes the difference between caring and not caring? The author's cruelty. And the reader's sympathy...it takes a mean author to write a good story.
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Would you favor me with a dance? Over all the others I was his choice! I curtsied, and he took my hand. Our hands knew each other. Char looked at me, startled. Have we met before, Lady?
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He -it- was a specter! I stepped back, stunned.
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Perhaps we can come here together someday. By the way, you're a month older than the last time I saw you. Are you still too young to marry.
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