Quote

Ani felt a stirring, a hope, a winged thing waking up in her chest and brushing her heart with it's feathers.

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
Chests
Waking
Hope
Felt
Winged
Heart
Brushing
Thing
Stirring
Feathers
Chest

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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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... If we don't tell strange stories, when something strange happens we won't believe it.
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Throwing herself into learning helped Miri ignore the painful chill of solitude around her.
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There you go...let it all slide out. Unhappiness can't stick in a person's soul when it's slick with tears.
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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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Sometimes my fancy gets to floating inside me, threatening to carry me away like a leaf on a wind. Better to be a stone.
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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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Your head will be fine,” said Miri. “It’s your neck you should worry about.
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She was born Anidori-Kiladra Talianna Isilee, Crown Princess of Kildenree, and she did not open her eyes for three days.
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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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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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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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I cannot write to anyone outside myself--if I tried, it would be a horrible story, flat and lifeless. I write to myself. That's the only person I'm trying to please.
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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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Smell is the voice of the soul.
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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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Life is short, so live extra lives. Read books.
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