Part of avoiding thoughts about something was not encouraging opportunities for that something to makes itself felt.

Everybody was strange. In a fit of frustration, she scratched out strange and wrote the word CRACKPOTS in big letters.

...that's how memory works ... Things disappear without your permission, then come back again without your permission.

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

If we're to be judged by our parents and grandparents, then we all may as well impale ourselves upon jagged bits of rock.

I've liked you better when Katsa's around," Giddon said. "She's so rotten to me that you seem positively pleasant in contrast.

His name was Death. It was pronounced to rhyme with "teeth", but Bitterblue liked to mispronounce it by accident on occassion.

If we knew a person was going to die, we'd hold harder to the memories." Fire corrected him, in a whisper. "The good memories.

It seems better to me for a child to have these skills and never use them, than not have them and one day need them," she said.

While I was looking the other way your fire went out. Left me with cinders to kick into dust, what a waste of the wonder you were

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.

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 truly thought I might hurt that man," he said, "very badly." "I didn't know you were capable of such bad temper." "Apparently I am.

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.

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.

Alone with Giddon again, Bitterblue considered him, rather liking the mud streaks on his face. He looked like a handsome sunken rowboat.

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.

This may be a thing you neither want nor need," she said. "But I'd rather you have it, wishing didn't, than not have it and wish you did.

I’m as old as both of you,” she said, even though she suspected she wasn’t, “and I’m smarter, and I can probably fight as well as you can.

It's not fair. It's not fair," she cried, knowing it was a child's argument but not caring, because being childish did not make it untrue.

You have a wound too, Papa." Hanna took Brigan's left hand, which was wrapped in a bandage, and inspected it. "Did you throw the first punch?

Your eyes are beautiful," he said, and she felt warm suddenly, warm in the sun that dappled through the treetops and rested on them in patches.

Only a person with the true heart of a dictionary-writer would be lying in bed, three days after being stabbed in the gut, worrying about his P's.

Brigan threw his head back and smiled at the sky. "Well said, Lady. The world may be falling to pieces, but at least the lot of us can have a bath.

Great seas," he said. "What do you want?" He held the candle up to her face. "Po, what do you want?" "She did a far better job than I would've done.

In the saddle again, Fire mulled over the commander's trust, prodding it around, like a candy in her mouth, trying to decide whether she believed it.

I don’t often know who should read what book. It’s a little bit like trying to set people up on a date - a good match is unpredictable and mysterious.

I wouldn't marry Giddon to save my life," Katsa said. "Not even to save yours." "Well." Raffin's eyes were full of laughter. "I'd leave that part out.

Brigan spun around to face the man, swearing with as much as exasperation and fury as Fire had ever heard anyone swear. The man scuttled away in alarm.

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.

He considered her seriously. "Well. And that's easy," he said. "My Grace will protect me from him, And I'll protect you. You'll be safe with me, Katsa.

They seemed no closer to the tops of the peaks that rose before them. It was only by looking back, to the forest far below, that she knew they'd climbed.

Your sadness is one of the things that makes you beautiful to me. Don't you see that? I understand it. It makes my own sadness less frightening." (Brigan)

For a group of people who claimed to be concerned for her safety, they did seem to have developed rather a habit of encouraging uprisings against monarchs.

I'm not such a bad fighter myself," Skye said. Po exploded with laughter. "Oh, fight him, Katsa. Please fight him. I can't imagine a more entertaining diversion.

I hear you're supposed to be good at manipulating people. Try a little harder to make me like you, all right? I'm the queen. Your life will be nicer if I like you.

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.

Hidden yourself in a hole and dared to burden no one with your grievous friendship? I will have friends, Katsa. I will have a life, even though I carry this burden.

The kingdoms' people were at the mercy of the natures of those who rose to be their rulers. It was a gamble, and the current generation did not make for a winning hand.

She'd lost her fury, somewhere, as they'd talked. She didn't feel it anymore. She wished she did, because she preferred it to the emptiness that had settled in its place.

If her enemies were Brigan's friends and her friends were Brigan's enemies, then the two of them could walk through the world arm in arm and never be hit by arrows again.

Now we just need to find someone who is close to the king but is really a spy for Mydogg." "That should be easy. I could probably shoot an arrow out the window and hit one.

Tell me what I can do to help you feel better." Well...I always like when you kiss me... "Do you?" You're good at it. "Well, that's lucky. Because I'll always be kissing you.

I've always been led to believe that the ultimate goal for an author is the movie deal. Now I understand that the movie deal is merely a MEANS TO A MUCH HIGHER END: NAIL POLISH.

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.

Ivan had contrived somehow in the dark of night to replace every watermelon in the watermelon patch with a gravestone, and every gravestone in the engraver's lot with a watermelon

She couldn't steal herself back from Randa only to give herself away again - belong to another person, be answerable to another person, build her very being around another person.

Sit, Your High Majestic Lord Princes," she said. She yanked a chair from the table and sat herself down. "You're in fine temper," Raffin said. "Your hair is blue," Katsa snapped back.

Mercy was more frightening than murder, because it was harder, and Randa didn't deserve it. And even though she wanted what the voice wanted, she didn't think she had the courage for it.

It was just that she had the need to tell him something honest, something honest and unhappy, because cheerful lies tonight were too depressing and too sharp, turning in on her like pins

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