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He had a dashing smile. It nearly dashed right off his face.

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
Nearly
Smile
Face
Faces
Right
Dashed
Dashing

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... and with my last thought I felt some real sympathy for those poor chickens.
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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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Her eyes were distant, and she seemed to be listening to that voice that first told her the story, a mother, sister, or aunt. Then her voice, like her singing, cut through the crickets and crackling fire.
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Ah, now, don't cry over lost years and forgetfulness. The tales tell what they can. The rest is for us to learn.
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...Speaking of, I've been playing with the letters - Lovers In a Very Enlightened Regard. LIVER. Good one. Also, how about Life Invasion Via Exceptional Respect? Life Invasion. Like it. Or Lovelike Intensity Via Emotional Rapport. Doesn't that spell OLIVER?
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If you were a woman, all I'd have to say is 'Colin Firth in a wet shirt' and you'd say 'Ah.
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Her nightmare clung to her like the smell of smoke to cloth.
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Poor gosling. It hurts to be lost. And worse to be home with no kind of homecoming...I'll be lucky if I can do as well as you when all this's done, just a bit out of breath, a bit bruised and scratched, a bit wiser and sadder for it all.
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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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He smiled in a way that made me want to kiss him right on the spot. Or the lips. Whichever was closer.
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Even the jerks earn some of our affection. We can be glad they're gone and yet still mourn the good parts.
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The book smelled dusty and old but also carried a sweet tang, a hint of something inviting. She opened to the first page and started to read, pronouncing the words in a reverent whisper.
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Oh land of farms and green hills mild Once formed by giants rough and wild With massive paws they gripped and tore With one great rip they formed the shore Where heavy boots left prints so deep Blue lakes remain 'tween summits steep The giants fought beneath our skies And from their bones our mountains rise
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...all things speak, in their way, don't they?
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Life is short, so live extra lives. Read books.
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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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He would never abandon her, never leave a gaping hole, and even if he died someday, he was preserved like a lab specimen from all the alcohol he imbibed, so he wouldn't look or act much different.
Shannon Hale
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Will you accompany me in this dance?” he said, bowing and holding out his hand. “No, thank you.” Miri smiled. The prince frowned and looked and the chief delegate as if for assistance. Miri laughed self consciously. “I, uh, I was teasing.
Shannon Hale
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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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I am not sure I am ready to know what I think about that, so I dare not write it out.
Shannon Hale