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She closed the book and put her cheek against it. There was still an odor of a library on it, of dust, leather, binding glue, and old paper, one book carrying the smell of hundreds.
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
Dust
Glue
Smell
Binding
Library
Cheek
Paper
Leather
Stills
Cheeks
Still
Carrying
Book
Hundreds
Closed
Odor
More quotes by Shannon Hale
The snow was too light to stay, the ground too warm to keep it. And the strange spring snow fell only in that golden moment of dawn, the turning of the page between night and day.
Shannon Hale
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
If we're mad, we're mad in large numbers, at least larger than yours.
Shannon Hale
I am not sure I am ready to know what I think about that, so I dare not write it out.
Shannon Hale
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
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.
Shannon Hale
Some people are born with the first word of a language resting on their tongue though it may take some time before they can taste it.
Shannon Hale
I'm going to find whoever is responsible for me sleeping out side with outside without pillows and kick them in the shins!-Enna
Shannon Hale
As a general rule, writing is very inconvenient.
Shannon Hale
I know I would crumble if I lost you.
Shannon Hale
Geric, she called. He turned back around. What kind of flowers were they? I don't rightly know, he said. He made faltering gestures with his hands, forming their size and shape from the air. They were yellow, and smallish, and had lots of petals. Thank you, she said. They were beautiful.
Shannon Hale
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.
Shannon Hale
He had a dashing smile. It nearly dashed right off his face.
Shannon Hale
I was under the stars, like a fish is under water.
Shannon Hale
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.
Shannon Hale
...all things speak, in their way, don't they?
Shannon Hale
Smell is the voice of the soul.
Shannon Hale
You've been quiet lately...but it's not so much the quiet as something inside the quiet.
Shannon Hale
He smiled in a way that made me want to kiss him right on the spot. Or the lips. Whichever was closer.
Shannon Hale
There you go...let it all slide out. Unhappiness can't stick in a person's soul when it's slick with tears.
Shannon Hale
