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She groped forward, hands and feet, in search of darkness, distance and solitude.

Kristin Cashore

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Kristin Cashore
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: June 10
Novelist
Writer
Boston
Massachusetts
Distance
Forward
Darkness
Feet
Hands
Groped
Search
Solitude

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The only way for you to keep your mind straight is to run from those who would confuse you.
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She'd lost her fury, somewhere, as they'd talked. She didn't feel it anymore. She wished she did, because she preferred it to the emptiness that had settled in its place.
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It has been a hard lesson to learn, that greatness requires suffering.
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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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Your horse is named Small. Yes. Mine is named Big. -Fire and Brigan
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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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...when truths disappear, they leave behind blank spaces, and that is also dangerous.
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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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It was just that she had the need to tell him something honest, something honest and unhappy, because cheerful lies tonight were too depressing and too sharp, turning in on her like pins
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I've always been led to believe that the ultimate goal for an author is the movie deal. Now I understand that the movie deal is merely a MEANS TO A MUCH HIGHER END: NAIL POLISH.
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Then she'll know I'll want to knock her senseless if she so much as looks at me.
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Not all people who inspire devotion are monsters.
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If he touches you, I'll come in and choke him to death.
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Bacon improved things dramatically.
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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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It hurt her eyes, almost, Ror City and it didn't surprise her that Po should come from a place that shone.
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She cried like a person whose heart is broken and wondered how, when two people loved each other, there could be such a broken heart.
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I don't want to love you if you're only going to die.
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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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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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