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I can see that one can never pay back Gilsa for the fear that she will give again.

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
Pay
Fear
Give
Back
Giving
Never

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He had a dashing smile. It nearly dashed right off his face.
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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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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.
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...all things speak, in their way, don't they?
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Just like the old adage--what you dislike most in other people is what you dislike the most in yourself--
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Enna leaned back her head and laughed at the sky. 'Of course he wasn't! Who could kill Razo?
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Go on, son, you're not doing me any good by bleeding.
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I know I would crumble if I lost you.
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Ani told them all...telling more than needed telling, the stories clarifying and unifying themselves in her mind as she let them spill out of her mouth.
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WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE: RAPUNZEL For horse thieving, kidnapping, jail breaking, and using her hair in a manner other than nature intended! REWARD
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Time is a wind that keeps blowing in my face and mumbling words that don't make sense.
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Goodness knows she is too fierce for you Goodness knows she has eyes for a lord Goodness knows she yet will prove untrue Her cheek's blush is as false as her word
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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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She put a wedge beside my heart And then she brought the mallet down She sang no song to guide her work I lost my heart without a sound
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I was under the stars, like a fish is under water.
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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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And new, too. Remade. Ready to move again. Listening was the start, she decided. Doing was the next step.
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