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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.

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
Learn
Lost
Tell
Years
Forgetfulness
Tales
Cry
Rest

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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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...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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How I keep trying to force our story into a fairy tale, but from the beginning, it's been more like a nursery rhyme. Bizarre and adorable? Just like you. With rings in your pockets and bells on your toes Ooh, I should really invest in some toes bells.
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As a general rule, writing is very inconvenient.
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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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Uge, save me from the sauce of their loveyness-raso Forest Born
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I can see that one can never pay back Gilsa for the fear that she will give again.
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You saw my leg? How can a man help what he sees? he said. And, if I could add, you possess a very fine leg.
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But when she turned her back to the lights, she saw that the night was so dark...She could not see the stars. The world felt as high as the depthless night sky and deeper than she could know. She understood, suddenly and keenly, that she was too small to run away, and she sat on the damp ground and cried.
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He had a dashing smile. It nearly dashed right off his face.
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Its important to know stories. I felt the earth shift to make a place for you when you were born, and I came to tell you stories while you are young. And like me, you were born with a word on your tongue.
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Years ago, before this estate was generously and unwillingly turned over to the crown, the lord here was a genuine dimwit. He had a minister stashed behind his throne to whisper clever things to say.
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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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Gerti didn’t ask for help.” Miri swallowed and tried to calm her quavering voice. “It was my fault.” “So it was. Now you all have learned that those who speak out of turn choose punishment for themselves and anyone they speak to.” “So if I speak to you, Tutor Olana, will you get the lashes?
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When you get tired of worrying and mourning your horse and trying not to be afraid, tell me and I'll do it for you a while so you can shut your eyes and sleep peaceful.
Shannon Hale
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No more crying. It's all wetness and no comfort at all.
Shannon Hale
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When the mountain quaked Like an elbow's nudge Like a shout that something is wrong The people awoke and Knew, yes, knew, that bandits had come
Shannon Hale
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. . . as long as there are movement and harmony, there are words.
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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.
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You are my butterfly and refuse to set you free.
Shannon Hale