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He leaned heavily on the desk now, as if danger had strengthened him before and its lack now made him weak.

Kristin Cashore

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Kristin Cashore
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: June 10
Novelist
Writer
Boston
Massachusetts
Heavily
Desk
Desks
Lack
Weak
Danger
Made
Strengthened
Leaned

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You’re crying.” “I’m not.” “Right,” he said mildly. “I suppose you got rained on.
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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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How acutely sometimes the presence or absence of people mattered
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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?
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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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They seemed no closer to the tops of the peaks that rose before them. It was only by looking back, to the forest far below, that she knew they'd climbed.
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Love is stupid. It has nothing to do with reason. You love whomever you love.
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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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...that's how memory works ... Things disappear without your permission, then come back again without your permission.
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If I'd been trying to kill him, he'd be dead.
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While I was looking the other way your fire went out Left me with cinders to kick into dust What a waste of the wonder you were In my living fire I will keep your scorn and mine In my living fire I will keep your heartache and mine At the disgrace of a waste of a life
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Now we just need to find someone who is close to the king but is really a spy for Mydogg. That should be easy. I could probably shoot an arrow out the window and hit one.
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Your eyes are beautiful, he said, and she felt warm suddenly, warm in the sun that dappled through the treetops and rested on them in patches.
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I'm not such a bad fighter myself, Skye said. Po exploded with laughter. Oh, fight him, Katsa. Please fight him. I can't imagine a more entertaining diversion.
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Katsa turned to Po with tears in her eyes. 'He'll be so angry.' 'He won't stay angry forever.' 'Won't he?' she said. 'People do sometimes.' 'Do they?' he said. 'Reasonable people? I hope that's not true.' Katsa gave him a funny look, but didn't answer. Resumed hugging herself and kicking things.
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My life is an apology for the life of my father.
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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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I've liked you better when Katsa's around, Giddon said. She's so rotten to me that you seem positively pleasant in contrast.
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Have you ridden over anyone you shouldn't?
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You cannot measure love by a scale of degrees.
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