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It doesn't seem to matter what we think...The prince will come up here and look at us as if we're barrels in a trader's wagon. And if I'm salt pork and he doesn't care for salt pork, then there's nothing I can do.

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
Think
Doesn
Wagon
Thinking
Seems
Wagons
Care
Traders
Look
Pork
Come
Barrels
Nothing
Prince
Matter
Salt
Looks
Seem
Trader

More quotes by Shannon Hale

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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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Truth is when your mind and your gut agree.
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...all things speak, in their way, don't they?
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There's nothing more aggravating in the world than the midnight sniffling of the person you've decided to hate.
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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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Will you accompany me in this dance?” he said, bowing and holding out his hand. “No, thank you.” Miri smiled. The prince frowned and looked and the chief delegate as if for assistance. Miri laughed self consciously. “I, uh, I was teasing.
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His brothers could tease him about his height or the number of scars he was collecting on his body. He could take the joke when they said he would die having never won a fair wrestling match. But the topic of Bettin still smarted too much. He'd imagined being with her always. Now when he closed his eyes, he had trouble imagining anything else.
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Really, becoming a writer sounds more like a mental illness than a professional choice.
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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.
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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.
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Writing a first draft and reminding myself that I'm simply shoveling sand into a box so that later I can build castles.
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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?
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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
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As a general rule, writing is very inconvenient.
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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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I'm the sheen on water, Rin thought. I'm a looking glass. I'm not real.
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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.
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If we're mad, we're mad in large numbers, at least larger than yours.
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Make haste” Jane added, just because she always wanted to say that.
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A heart is a heart in a child or a man.
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