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All you did was sit there, he said. Why are you so tired? I sat very diligently, she said.
Robin McKinley
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Robin McKinley
Age: 72
Born: 1952
Born: November 16
Author
Novelist
Writer
Warren
Ohio
Jennifer Carolyn Robin McKinley
Diligently
Sat
Tired
More quotes by Robin McKinley
Cigars should be like onions, she said, unfastening the catch and pushing back the pane. Either the whole company does, or the whole company does not.
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I don't differentiate in the way that the genre creators want differentiation to be made. I feel that I have never written children's or YA stories particularly.
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Betrayal would be a different sort of sick.
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Mice are terribly chatty. They will chat about anything, and if there is nothing to chat about, they will chat about having nothing to chat about. Compared to mice, robins are reserved.
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Friends you will have need of, for in you two worlds meet. There is no one on both sides with you, so you must learn to take your own counsel and not to fear what is strange, if you know it also to be true. —Luthe
Robin McKinley
He looked at her rather as a man looks at a problem that he would very much prefer to do without. She supposed it was a distinction of a sort to be a harassment to a king.
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He will apologize, or I'll give him a lesson in swordplay he will not like at all.
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It wasn't so long ago when all the so-called scientists said that humans were intelligent and that animals weren't, humans were the solitary unchallenged masters of the globe and probably the universe and the only question was whether we were handling our mastery well. (No. Next question.)
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...but with the hours I sometimes kept at the coffeehouse I had to have learned to take naps during the day or die, and I had learned to take naps. Up until five months ago something or other or die had always seemed like a plain choice in favor of the something or other.
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My capacity for invention is flash hot stark, I thought. Sucker sunshade. Disembodied radar-reconnaissance. Not to mention Bitter Chocolate Death and Killer Zebras. Pity about the rest of me.
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I long for another human face just as I fear it.
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Can't all beasts be tamed?
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[Harry] had always suffered from a vague restlessness, a longing for adventure that she told herself severely was the result of reading too many novels when she was a small child.
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Everything was an adventure, at night, when you were where you shouldn't be, even if it was somwhere you could go perfectly well in daylight, and it was then only ordinary.
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The great thing about fantasy is that you can drag dreams and longings and hopes and fears and strivings out of your subconscious and call them 'magic' or 'dragons' or 'faeries' and get to know them better. But then I write the stuff. Obviously I'm prejudiced.
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Why do you tell me... so much? Luthe considered her. I tell you... some you need to know, and some you have earned the right to know, and some it won't hurt you to know-- He stopped.... Some things I tell you only because I wish to tell them to you.
Robin McKinley
One doesn't generally look into mirrors when one is especially angry one has better things to do, like pace the floor or throw things.
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He didn't look insane or inhuman. He did look uncooperative.
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Beauty: You called me beautiful last night. Beast: You do not believe me then? Beauty: Well - no. Any number of mirrors have told me otherwise. Beast: You will find no mirrors here, for I cannot bear them: nor any quiet water in ponds. And since I am the only one who sees you, why are you not then beautiful?
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I found that the only way I could control this sorrow was not to think of [it] at all, which was almost as painful as the loss itself.
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