Kristin Cashore Quotes (60 Quotes)

Dear Brigan, she thought to herself. People want incongruous, impossible things. Horses do, too.

My life is an apology for the life of my father.

In the end, Leck should have stuck to his lies. For it was the truth he almost told that killed him.

Still doing your best to ruin the horses, I see.

Do you understand? I don't want you to do a thing if you don't understand it.

She crossed the room to him, put her arms around him, clung to him, turning her face to the side, learning all at once that it was awkward to show a person all of one's love when one's nose was broken.

It hurt her eyes, almost, Ror City; and it didn't surprise her that Po should come from a place that shone.

The only way for you to keep your mind straight is to run from those who would confuse you.

Fire sat unbreathing. A life that was an apology for the life of his father: It was a notion she could understand, beyond words and thought. She understood it the way she understood music.

The world doesn't care who wins. It'll go on spinning no matter how many people are slaughtered tomorrow. No matter if you and I are slaughtered. I almost wish it wouldn't if we aren't allowed to go on spinning with it.

It was a strange monster, for beneath its exterior it was frightened and sickened by its own violence. It chastised itself for its savagery. And sometimes it had no heart for violence and rebelled against it utterly.

Then she'll know I'll want to knock her senseless if she so much as looks at me.

Great! He has indigestion, so let's torture him with cake.

Then I'm sorry I don't remember more. If we kew a person was going to die, we'd hold harder to the memories.

It's as if when I open myself up to every perception, things create their own focus.

What she really loved was to hang over the edge and watch the bow of the ship slice through the waves. She loved it especially when the waves were high and the ship rose and fell, or when it was snowing and the flakes stung her face.

Have you ridden over anyone you shouldn't?

There will be no yelling at people who are bleeding themselves to unconsciousness.

Katsa didn't think a person should thank her for not causing pain. Causing joy was worthy of thanks, and causing pain worthy of disgust. Causing neither was neither, it was nothing, and nothing didn't warrant thanks.

When you're a monster, you are thanked and praised for not being a monster.

He held up a finger and went to the hallway, where he tripped over Blotchy, and then over the two monster cats madly pursuing Blotchy. Swearing, he leaned over the landing and called to the guard that unless the kingdom fell to war or his daughter was dying, he better not be interrupted until further notice.

When Brocker arrived he took her hands and held them to his face and cried into them.

Katsa sat in the darkness of the Sunderan forest and understood three truths. She loved Po. She wanted Po. And she could never be anyone's but her own.

Your brand of comfort bears some similarity to your tactical offense.

He thinks we're made of money.

You're the queen, and it's the queen's house, and whatever Brigan may accomplish, he's highly unlikely ever to be queen.

Katsa watched the long grass moving around them. The wind pushed it, attacked it, struck it in one place and then another. It rose and fell and rose again. It flowed, like water.

You're afraid of your own anger

His last thought was that it hadn't been stupidity that had allowed his son to enchant him so easily with words. It had been love.

Alone in the forest, Katsa sat on a stump and cried. She cried like a person whose heart is broken and wondered how, when two people loved each other, there could be such a broken heart.

Los amigos no te mienten. Los amigos intentan comprenderte.

How unjust then to meet that person you love, and be kept away from them only because ones bed is made of hay , and the other, feathers.

And the kings were no better to their own people than they were to each others.

Maybe it was for the best that she'd been so foolish, for if she'd known how hard this would be, perhaps she wouldn't have done it.

I don't want to love you if you're only going to die.

But you're better than I am, Katsa. And it doesn't humiliate me. It humbles me. But it doesn't humiliate me.

Mercy was more frightening than murder, because it was harder.

I must stop wishing for things to happen. Because something will happen eventually, and when it does, I'll be bound to wish it hadn't.

He leaned heavily on the desk now, as if danger had strengthened him before and its lack now made him weak.

Normal. She wasn't normal. A girl Graced with killing, a royal thug? A girl who didn't want the husbands Randa pushed on her, perfectly handsome and thoughtful men, a girl who panicked at the thought of a baby at her breast, or clinging to her ankles.

A consciousness was like a face you saw once and forever recognized.

If she was suggesting she was too wise with the weight of her experience to fall prey to infatuation - well, the disproof was sitting before her in the form of a gray-eyed prince with a thoughtful set to his mouth that she found quite distracting.

He made her drunk, this man made her drunk; and every time his eyes flashed into hers she could not breathe.

Perhaps I can stay by the fire and mend your socks and scream if I hear any strange noises.

And is it the way, in these kingdoms you fell from, for a woman to join forces with an unnatural child who's murdered her friend? Or is that expectation unique to you, and your infinitesimal heart?

It made Fire so angry, the thought of such a medicine, a violence done to herself to stop her from creating anything like herself. And what was the purpose of these eyes, this impossible face, the softness and the curves of this body, the strength of this mind; what was the point, if none of the men who desired her were to give her any babies, and all it ever brought her was grief? What was the purpose of a woman monster?

How absurd it was that in all seven kingdoms, the weakest and most vulnerable of people - girls, women - went unarmed and were taught nothing of fighting, while the strong were trained to the highest reaches of their skill.

Raff, what have you done to yourself? Your hair is positively blue.

And of course she understood now why her body wanted to run whenever he appeared. It was a correct instinct, for there was nothing to be got from this but sadness.

It was a hurting tune, resigned, a cry of heartache for all in the world that fell apart. As ash rose black against the brilliant sky, Fire's fiddle cried out for the dead, and for the living who stay behind to say goodbye.