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You can be who you will,” he repeated. His voice softened. “And if you will have me, I will be the one beside you.

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
Beside
Voice
Softened
Repeated

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Throwing herself into learning helped Miri ignore the painful chill of solitude around her.
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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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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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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
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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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Go on, son, you're not doing me any good by bleeding.
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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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My friends call me by my name. You don't have any friends. I don't want you to be my friend, Selia, or my servant, not now. I thought you were both. You have let me know I was wrong. So are you to treat me so. You are wrong.
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He smiled in a way that made me want to kiss him right on the spot. Or the lips. Whichever was closer.
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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.
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Razo knew he was best at nothing, except maybe cramming two cherries into a single nostril.
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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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Smell is the voice of the soul.
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The to Cathal was battered and only one wagon wide, with swells of hard earth where mud had frozen during cold ad rainy seasons. Enna tripped often, and cursed each time she tripped, until Dasha said, Enna, you might watch your language. Enna grimaced. I was. You should hear my thoughts.
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You've been quiet lately...but it's not so much the quiet as something inside the quiet.
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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?
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Ani felt a stirring, a hope, a winged thing waking up in her chest and brushing her heart with it's feathers.
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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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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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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.
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