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If I'd been trying to kill him, he'd be dead.

Kristin Cashore

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Kristin Cashore
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: June 10
Novelist
Writer
Boston
Massachusetts
Dead
Trying
Kill

More quotes by Kristin Cashore

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Things don't ever stay the same. Natural beginnings come to natural or unnatural ends.
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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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...that's how memory works ... Things disappear without your permission, then come back again without your permission.
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His last thought was that it hadn't been stupidity that had allowed his son to enchant him so easily with words. It had been love.
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There are no medicines to bring a dead thing back to life.
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Children are geniuses.
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Fire sat unbreathing. A life that was an apology for the life of his father: It was a notion she could understand, beyond words and thought. She understood it the way she understood music.
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I truly thought I might hurt that man, he said, very badly. I didn't know you were capable of such bad temper. Apparently I am.
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I think.' she said, 'that sometimes we don't feel the things that we are. But others can feel them.
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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
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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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Danzhol. The one with the marriage proposal and the objections to the town charter in central Monsea. Bacon, Bitterblue muttered. Bacon! she repeated, then carefully made her way up the spiral stairs.
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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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That's interesting, Bitterblue said. You think a conscience requires fear?
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Great seas, he said. What do you want? He held the candle up to her face. Po, what do you want? She did a far better job than I would've done.
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I don’t often know who should read what book. It’s a little bit like trying to set people up on a date - a good match is unpredictable and mysterious.
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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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In the saddle again, Fire mulled over the commander's trust, prodding it around, like a candy in her mouth, trying to decide whether she believed it.
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Everybody was strange. In a fit of frustration, she scratched out strange and wrote the word CRACKPOTS in big letters.
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Some people had too much power and too much cruelty to live. Some people were too horrible, no matter if you loved them no matter that you had to make yourself terrible too, in order to stop them. Some things just had to be done. I forgive myself, thought Fire. Today, I forgive myself.
Kristin Cashore