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... fantasy is not practice for what is real—fantasy is the opiate of women.

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
Opiate
Opiates
Fantasy
Practice
Women
Real

More quotes by Shannon Hale

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Mama used to say, you have to know someone a thousand days before you can glimpse her soul.
Shannon Hale
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Truth is when your mind and your gut agree.
Shannon Hale
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I'm going to find whoever is responsible for me sleeping out side with outside without pillows and kick them in the shins!-Enna
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... If we don't tell strange stories, when something strange happens we won't believe it.
Shannon Hale
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Enna leaned back her head and laughed at the sky. 'Of course he wasn't! Who could kill Razo?
Shannon Hale
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Why was the judgement of the disapproving so valuable? Who said that their good opinions tended to be any more rational than those of generally pleasant people?
Shannon Hale
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If you're listening Big Brother, I refuse to be Fanny Price.
Shannon Hale
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He nodded. And if I don't make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world every day of your life, then I don't deserve to be near you.
Shannon Hale
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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.
Shannon Hale
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If we're mad, we're mad in large numbers, at least larger than yours.
Shannon Hale
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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.
Shannon Hale
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The army slew a thousand and showed little pity The king ordered fealty from the conquered city The prince charmed its people with words wise and witty And the queen sat on a couch, looking very pretty
Shannon Hale
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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
Shannon Hale
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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.
Shannon Hale
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Saying my story makes me want to change it, make it sound pretty the way I do with the stories I tell the workers. I'd like it to have a beginning as grand as a ball and an ending in a whisper, like a mother tucking in a child for sleep.
Shannon Hale
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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
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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.
Shannon Hale
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She dismounted, grabbed Enna's hand so tightly that she drew blood with her fingernails, walked straight into the nearest cottage, and plopped down on a bed. Enna nodded to the startled cottage dwellers. It's the queen, you see, said Enna. She's going to have a baby in your house. You don't mind?
Shannon Hale
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You've been quiet lately...but it's not so much the quiet as something inside the quiet.
Shannon Hale
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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