Ani told them all...telling more than needed telling, the stories clarifying and unifying themselves in her mind as she let them spill out of her mouth.
But the hoping, that's what really hurts.
No more crying. It's all wetness and no comfort at all.
You're better than seven years of food. You're better than windows. You're even better than the sky.
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.
But in a country where you hang your dead up on walls and pride whether or not a man bears a javelin more than his character, how am I to persuade you out of a war? It would be suicide for Kildenree to war on Bayern and butchery for Bayern to attack Kildenree. If you don't believe me, then send me back. Or if you don't trust me to leave, I'll return to my little room on the west wall and tend your geese, and you can be sure that on my watch no thieves will touch my flock.
Careful with the accusations of insanity, oh my lady whose home is a tower with windows of brick, all for the sake of some skinny-ankled, laugh-prone boy of a khan.
Oh, but I like my geese. Like cats, they can't be told what to do, and like dogs, they're loyal, and like people, they talk every chance they get.
He did a very good impression of a stone column.
You, what are you? The brat of lucky parents who were related to a childless king. There is no such thing as royal blood. I believe we are what we make ourselves, and as such, you, Crown Princess, are nothing.
But when she turned her back to the lights, she saw that the night was so dark...She could not see the stars. The world felt as high as the depthless night sky and deeper than she could know. She understood, suddenly and keenly, that she was too small to run away, and she sat on the damp ground and cried.
Poor gosling. It hurts to be lost. And worse to be home with no kind of homecoming...I'll be lucky if I can do as well as you when all this's done, just a bit out of breath, a bit bruised and scratched, a bit wiser and sadder for it all.
I keep thinking about a tale my nurse used to read to me about a bird whose wings are pinned to the ground. In the end, when he finally frees himself, he flies so high he becomes a star. My nurse said the story was about how we all have something that keeps us down.
Clearly she was expected to say something, but panic at having to speak stole the thoughts from her head.
I let my head fall back, and I gazed into the Eternal Blue Sky. It was morning. Some of the sky was yellow, some the softest blue. One small cloud scuttled along. Strange how everything below can be such death and chaos and pain while above the sky is peace, sweet blue gentleness. I heard a shaman say once, the Ancestors want our souls to be like the blue sky.
Right now I'd like all my troubles to stand in front of me in a straight line, and one by one I'd give each a black eye.
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.
Go on, son, you're not doing me any good by bleeding.
I wonder if everyone who faces death hurts like this. It's as though for the first time I realize how much just being alive makes my body ache. But I don't want that ache to stop.
She answered by standing and kissing him first and held his cheeks and closed her eyes and felt sure as bones and deep as blood that she had found her place.
There you go...let it all slide out. Unhappiness can't stick in a person's soul when it's slick with tears.
He looked at her, and the clarity of his dark eyes struck her heart with a sensation of a wound touched.
Mama used to say, you have to know someone a thousand days before you can glimpse her soul.
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.
Throwing herself into learning helped Miri ignore the painful chill of solitude around her.
Her nightmare clung to her like the smell of smoke to cloth.
She was born Anidori-Kiladra Talianna Isilee, Crown Princess of Kildenree, and she did not open her eyes for three days.
Truth is when your mind and your gut agree.
More Shannon Hale Quotations (Based on Topics)
World - Home - Time - People - Hope - Morning - War & Peace - Soul - Fate & Destiny - Cry - Books - Learning - Fear - Solitude - Education - Daydreaming - Mind - Cats - Light - View All Shannon Hale Quotations
More Shannon Hale Quotations (By Book Titles)
- Book of a Thousand Days
- Princess Academy
- The Goose Girl
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