Quote

I keep thinking about a tale my nurse used to read to me about a bird whose wings are pinned to the ground. In the end, when he finally frees himself, he flies so high he becomes a star. My nurse said the story was about how we all have something that keeps us down.

Shannon Hale

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Shannon Hale
Age: 50
Born: 1974
Born: January 26
Author
Fantasy Author
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Salt Lake City
Utah
Stories
Whose
Nurse
Used
Becomes
Tales
Something
Stars
Keeps
Thinking
High
Wings
Story
Finally
Pinned
Read
Star
Frees
Keep
Ground
Flies
Ends
Bird
Tale

More quotes by Shannon Hale

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It doesn't seem to matter what we think...The prince will come up here and look at us as if we're barrels in a trader's wagon. And if I'm salt pork and he doesn't care for salt pork, then there's nothing I can do.
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You can be who you will,” he repeated. His voice softened. “And if you will have me, I will be the one beside you.
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No more crying. It's all wetness and no comfort at all.
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There's nothing more aggravating in the world than the midnight sniffling of the person you've decided to hate.
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The woman gestured to a seat and put on a patient face. An impatient sort of patient face, like an impatient face dressing up as a patient one for Halloween.
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...all things speak, in their way, don't they?
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No one had ever called her wild before. She wanted to be wild now, for him. Wild seemed more enticing then a bowl of berries.
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It is a truth universally acknowledged that a thirty-something woman in possession of a satisfying career and fabulous hairdo must be in want of very little
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Clearly she was expected to say something, but panic at having to speak stole the thoughts from her head.
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He nodded. And if I don't make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world every day of your life, then I don't deserve to be near you.
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It was karma, it was kismet, it was magic. It doesn't matter how it happened, just that it did.
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Listen to your second thought, or the third might be too late.
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They weren't nice words he said. He could've lived a good life and died never having made a person feel rubbed down to bones and too sad to hold together.
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... fantasy is not practice for what is real—fantasy is the opiate of women.
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You've been quiet lately...but it's not so much the quiet as something inside the quiet.
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I was under the stars, like a fish is under water.
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Saying my story makes me want to change it, make it sound pretty the way I do with the stories I tell the workers. I'd like it to have a beginning as grand as a ball and an ending in a whisper, like a mother tucking in a child for sleep.
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And Isi always listened, never told Enna she had been foolish, never said hollow things like 'You'll be all right.' . . . Isi saw Enna's struggle and her sadness, and she understood.
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His brothers could tease him about his height or the number of scars he was collecting on his body. He could take the joke when they said he would die having never won a fair wrestling match. But the topic of Bettin still smarted too much. He'd imagined being with her always. Now when he closed his eyes, he had trouble imagining anything else.
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Razo hopped back up and adopted a posture that said he was completely unruffled, never had been, and in fact was ready to do something manly like lift boulders or swallow live worms.
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