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And, he continued, his strange smile gleaming, as I see it, our hearts are not so different in size. I murdered my father. You murdered yours. Is that something you did with a large heart?

Kristin Cashore

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Kristin Cashore
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: June 10
Novelist
Writer
Boston
Massachusetts
Something
Size
Smile
Hearts
Large
Strange
Father
Gleaming
Different
Murdered
Heart
Continued

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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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Hidden yourself in a hole and dared to burden no one with your grievous friendship? I will have friends, Katsa. I will have a life, even though I carry this burden.
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I don't understand your book. Isn't every book a book of words?
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And you may blame me for your feelings, but it isn't fair to blame me for how you've chosen to behave.
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Tell me what I can do to help you feel better. Well...I always like when you kiss me... Do you? You're good at it. Well, that's lucky. Because I'll always be kissing you.
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How acutely sometimes the presence or absence of people mattered
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Normal. She wasn't normal. A girl Graced with killing, a royal thug? A girl who didn't want the husbands Randa pushed on her, perfectly handsome and thoughtful men, a girl who panicked at the thought of a baby at her breast, or clinging to her ankles.
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...that's how memory works ... Things disappear without your permission, then come back again without your permission.
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I was doing science, Giddon said. He threw a bean. I was testing the impact of a bean upon water, Bann said. That's not even a real thing. Perhaps I'll test the impact of a bean upon your beautiful white shirt.
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You’re crying.” “I’m not.” “Right,” he said mildly. “I suppose you got rained on.
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You're beautiful this morning, Archer said, stopping before her, kissing her nose. You're impossibly sweet in my shirt. That might be but she felt like death. She would gladly make the trade how blissful it would be to feel impossibly sweet and look like death.
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Not all people who inspire devotion are monsters.
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You cannot measure love by a scale of degrees.
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If we knew a person was going to die, we'd hold harder to the memories. Fire corrected him, in a whisper. The good memories.
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We're going to win this war, you know, now that our army's together. But the world doesn't care who wins. It'll go on spinning, no matter how many people are slaughtered. After a moment, he added. I almost wish it wouldn't, if we aren't allowed to go on spinning with it.
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My life is an apology for the life of my father.
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Brigan threw his head back and smiled at the sky. Well said, Lady. The world may be falling to pieces, but at least the lot of us can have a bath.
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Children are geniuses.
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It's hard to wake from a nightmare when the nightmare is real.
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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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