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Katsa didn't think a person should thank her for not causing pain. Causing joy was worthy of thanks, and causing pain worthy of disgust. Causing neither was neither, it was nothing, and nothing didn't warrant thanks.

Kristin Cashore

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Kristin Cashore
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: June 10
Novelist
Writer
Boston
Massachusetts
Thinking
Neither
Warrant
Joy
Warrants
Pain
Disgust
Didn
Causing
Persons
Disgusting
Person
Thank
Nothing
Thanks
Think
Worthy

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You’re crying.” “I’m not.” “Right,” he said mildly. “I suppose you got rained on.
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I push everyone I love away. He shrugged. I don't mind you pushing me away if it means you love me, little sister.
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His name was Death. It was pronounced to rhyme with teeth, but Bitterblue liked to mispronounce it by accident on occassion.
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What a horrifying notion, he said. A creature with the power to take over one's mind.
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Only a person with the true heart of a dictionary-writer would be lying in bed, three days after being stabbed in the gut, worrying about his P's.
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Things don't ever stay the same. Natural beginnings come to natural or unnatural ends.
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You're afraid of your own anger.
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Perhaps I can stay by the fire and mend your socks and scream if I hear any strange noises.
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I hear you're supposed to be good at manipulating people. Try a little harder to make me like you, all right? I'm the queen. Your life will be nicer if I like you.
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That was what they did with themselves, those two Gracelings, along with a small band of friends: They stirred up trouble on a serious scale—bribery, coercion, sabotage, organized rebellion—all directed at stopping the worst behavior of the world’s most seriously corrupt kings.
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I’m suspicious of the notion of a single book that would benefit everyone to read.
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For a group of people who claimed to be concerned for her safety, they did seem to have developed rather a habit of encouraging uprisings against monarchs.
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And of course she understood now why her body wanted to run whenever he appeared. It was a correct instinct, for there was nothing to be got from this but sadness.
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There was no helping her tears. For they would leave Po behind… She cried into his shoulder like a child. Ashamed of herself, for it was only a parting, and Bitterblue had not wept like this even over a death. ‘Don’t be ashamed,' Po whispered. ‘Your sadness is dear to me. Don’t be frightened. I won’t die, Katsa. I won’t die, and we’ll meet again.
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Go safely. Go safely, she thought to him. what a silly, empty thing it was to say to anyone, anywhere.
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You can't help whom you love, Lady. Nor can you know what it's liable to cause you to do.
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Bacon improved things dramatically.
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Katsa sat in the darkness of the Sunderan forest and understood three truths. She loved Po. She wanted Po. And she could never be anyone's but her own.
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Please, Katsa, he finally said. At least talk to me. She swung around to face him. What it there to talk about? You know how I feel, and what I think about it. And what I feel? Doesn't it matter?
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I don't want to love you if you're only going to die.
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