Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
What are we fighting for? What are we killing for? What do you see when you look into the future?
"Love is a luxury." "No. Love is an element." An element. Like air to breathe, earth to stand on.
Once upon a time, a girl lived in a sandcastle, making monsters to send through a hole in the sky.
Perhaps Fate laid out your life for you like a dress on a bed, and you could either wear it or go naked.
...the air seeming to gather around her like held breath. As if this whole place were a story about her.
Once upon a time, an angel and a devil held a wishbone between them. And its snap split the world in two.
Her courage was a guise. She wondered if courage always was, or if there were those who truly felt no fear.
Hey! My body may be small, but my soul is large. It’s why I wear platforms. So I can reach the top of my soul.
Beauty,’ Brimstone had scoffed once. ‘Humans are fools for it. As helpless as moths who hurl themselves at fire.
A thousand things might have stopped me from being here right now, but instead, a thousand things brought me here.
Anyway, since when are you shy? Just talk to him already!' ' 'And say what? Nice fiddling, handsome man?' 'Absolutely.
When you are young, hone your craft and write shorter pieces instead of novels, because it's really hard to finish a novel.
I want.." she said, knowing what she wanted, feeling pulled toward it, arching toward it, but hardly knowing how to say it.
It was as if she had emitted a pulse of radiation that reached him even where he stood, and it bathed him and it burned him.
She knocked and waited, because when the door was opened from within, it had the potential to lead someplace quite different.
He actually listened, rather than pretending to listen while waiting a suitable interval before it was his time to talk again.
Once upon a time, the sky knew the weight of angel armies on the move, and the wind blew infernal with the fire of their wings.
Like a magpie, I am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales, dead languages, weird folk beliefs, fascinating religions, and more.
I want to build spires in their minds and dance shadows through like marionettes, chased by whispers and hints of the unspeakable.
Dead souls dream only of death. Small dreams for small men. It is life that expands to fill worlds. Life is your master, or death is
You have only to begin, Lir. Mercy breeds mercy as slaughter breeds slaughter. We can’t expect the world to be better than we make it.
I was going to say the beginning is the good part, when it's all sparks and sparkles, before they are inevitably unmasked as assholes.
As for Ellai, she told her sister what had passed, and Nitid wept, and her tears fell to earth and became chimaera, children of regret.
You almost hold up your piece of paper and say, ‘The girl I like just gave me a treasure map to herself.’ But you don’t. You just don’t.
We only get to be one person; we don't even get to choose that person. By the time we get ahold of ourselves, we are pieces already in play.
All right," sighed Madrigal. "To the baths, then. To make ourselves shiningly clean." Like vegetable, she thought, before they go in the stew.
Your soul sings to mine. My soul is yours, and it always will be, in any world. No matter what happens. I need you to remember that I love you.
The sooner you learn to finish things, and as a matter of course finish your creative endeavors, the better. It took me a long time to learn that.
Are you saying you don't love me?" Hazael asked Liraz. "Because I love you. I think." He paused in contemplation. "Oh. No. Never mind. That's fear.
What a lovely display of personhood. He's like a good book cover that grabs your gaze. Read me. I'm fun but smart. You won't be able to put me down.
She tried to pray, but she had only ever prayed at night, and it seemed to her that the moons made poor protectors when angels chose to hunt by day.
When a street musician lowered his violin to inquire, 'Hey lovely, what you got there?' she said, 'Musicians who ask questions,' and kept on dragging.
Is it good or bad?" she asked Issa. The wrong question, she knew. She just couldn't help herself. "It's both, sweet girl," said Issa. "like everything.
Where am I and doing what? You might well ask. Freaky chick, you say? You can't imagine. I am priestess of a sandcastle in a land of dust and starlight.
As long as he had life, who deserved it so little, he would use it, wield it, and do whatever he could in its name, even if it was not, was never, enough
When I turned to writing fantasy, and writing for young people, it was joyous. It was like discovering an underground lake of ideas that went on forever.
It's easy to get published once you have written a really good book and the hard part, 99 percent of what you need to worry about, is really finishing it.
It seemed she was in a cathedral—if, that is, the earth itself were to dream a cathedral into being over thousands of years of water weeping through stone.
These soldiers had done what they had done, and been done unto in return. This was how it went. In the cycle of slaughter, reprisal begat reprisal, forever.
If he does he's a fool," said Hazael. "The message is clear. Please enjoy this lovely fruit while contemplating all the ways we might kill you in your sleep.
In all that was to happen, there would be that feeling of inevitability and rightness, and the sense that the universe was conspiring in it. It would be easy.
I am one of billions. I am stardust gathered fleetingly into form. I will be ungathered. The stardust will go on to be other things someday and I will be free.
...wings—-vast shimmering wings, their reach so great they swept the walls on either side of the alley, each feather like the wind-tugged lick of a candle flame.
I started blogging in 2006 when I had sold my first novel but it had not yet been published, in those anxious months in between while I learned the whole process.
The main thing I've learned is that we all have to learn to work with - and appreciate - the brain we've been given, and not waste time wishing things were easier.
... and holy hell the chocolate is so intense and pure it should be named an element and given a spot on the periodic table. It would be Ch, which isn't even taken.
Just then, lit only by the flicker of his wings,the sight of him was so..right somehow. He was right. It made no sense at all, but the feeling flooded through Karou
Better to be the cat gazing coolly down from a high wall, its expression inscrutable. The cat that shunned petting, that needed no one. Why couldn't she be that cat?
When it turned out that he could, Karou dropped to her knees to genuflect. "Gods of math and physics," she intoned, "I accept your gift of this clever fair-haired boy
...they cupped their wings around their happiness and called it a world, though they both knew it was not a world, only a hiding place, which is a very different thing.