Jessica Day George

“This book was made possible by the letter “ø.”

“Wind does not need translation. It speaks the language of men, of animals and birds, of rocks and trees and earth and sky and water. It does not eat or sleep, or take shelter from the weather. It is the weather. And it lives.”

“Love’? What do you know about love?”"It’s at the heart of every story,” Rollo said with authority. “If humans could avoid falling in love, you would never get yourselves into any trouble.”

“It was a palace, made entirely of gold, sitting on an island of silver snow at the very top of the world. East of the sun, and west of the moon.”

“Never look back, never forget.”

“Marianne's mouth was open in surprise, but Poppy looked murderous. She clutched her reticule as though it contained a weapon. Realizing that it probably held some very sharp knitting needles, Christian reflected that it did.”

“Love you always, miss you always... running day and night, leaving the place of sun and moon, of ice and snow.Never look back, never forget.”

“And the prince who had once been a bear pulled close the girl who had once had no name, and kissed her.”

“How wonderful," he purred. "I've been longing to speak to you for days, Princess Cecelia.""And I've been wanting to kick you in the shin for days.”

“I already have a plan." Celie said, raising her hand as she would with her tutor."Do you?" Rolf's eyes gleamed. "What is it?""I don't think you'll like it, Lilah." Celie apologized straightaway. "It involves manure...a great deal of manure."Rolf started to laugh again.”

“Where is Galen?" She had many questions to ask the king, and it surprised her a little that this should be the first one to pop out of her mouth. Still, it was just as urgent as any of the others. "What have you done to him?""Nothing." The king spread his weirdly elongated hands in an innocent gesture. "The gardener's boy is in perfect health. For the present.""And then he'll fall off a horse, or slip on the wet pavement? So that you don't need to get your hands dirty?" Rose sneered at him.He smiled his cold smile. "Keeping one's hands clean – maintaining one's innocence. Is that not the human way?”

“You were a soldier?""Yes, sir.""You barely look old enough to have seen the last battle.""My father was a career army man, sir. I was there at the first engagement with Analousia, and took up my father's rifle when I was barely fifteen.""Saints preserve us," Dr. Kelling said, and squeezed Galen's shoulder. "What have we done to our youth?”

“Violet heard the coughing and came running back. She sank down on the bench beside Rose, putting her arm around the older girl and holding a handkerchief to Rose's lips. "What happened?" she asked Galen, her tone just shy of being accusatory."I am so sorry, Your Highness," Galen said, backing away. "I made her laugh, and–""You made her laugh?" Violet's eyes widened. "She hasn't laughed in weeks!" She smiled at Galen and gave Rose's shoulders a little squeeze.”

“Even now, Dickon was upstairs, writing sonnets to his new love, while back at Seadown House, Marianne was writing 'Ella' on scraps of paper and then burning them.”

“Dancing? You, Poppy?" Marianne shook her head slowly. I never thought..."Rose looked concerned. She even felt Poppy's head for fever, but Poppy shook her off."I don't know about you, Rose, but I'm done letting creatures like Under Stone and the Corley dictate my life. I enjoy dancing, and I will blasted well dance at my wedding!""Poppy! Language!"Poppy didn't answer; she just threw her arms around Christian and kissed him soundly.”

“Galen Werner, you may choose one of my daughters to be your bride, and when I die, you shall sit beside her as co-ruler of Westfallin." "Your Majesty.... I - I don't know - " Rose felt her knees shaking. Did he not love her after all? "Psst, Galen?" Pansy tugged on his arm. Galen leaned down. "If Rose doesn't want you," the little girl whispered loudly, "you can marry me." Galen laughed shakily. "Thanks, Pansy." "Oh, Rose! Don't just stand there like a lump," Poppy said, poking her in the back. "If he's too embarrased, you should be the one to say something." "Poppy!" Daisy looked scandalized. "It's not Rose's place to - " Under cover of their squabbling, Rose took Galen's hand and moved closer to him. "Do you want to marry me?" she whispered in a much quieter tone than Pansy had used. "Yes," he said. "If neither of you is going to speak up," King Gregor said, "I shall simply have to decide it for myself!" "Father," Rose protested, "that won't be necessary!" "I choose Rose," Galen blurted out at the same time. "There. Done. Easy." King Gregor clapped his hands.”

“Took you long enough!,' she said, and planted a kiss on his lips.”

“No need, no, need. Life is already too short to find it.”

“But I really would love to give her a very special gift. I was hoping if I did, she might give me a kiss in return, instead of the brotherly hugs I always get instead.”

“We startled some strange, long-necked shaggy creatures that had been grazing in the field, and I swear one of them spit at Feniul. Hagen slipped off of Leontes'neck and started to follow the creatures into the little copse of trees they had taken shelter in, fascinated, but I called him back."They spit."I said. "They probably bite as well.""They are ill tempered things,"Amacarin agreed."But I saw someone riding one yesterday. It did not look like a smooth-gaited beast, though."Now there was even more longing in Hagen's face."Luka started laughing. "I shall buy you one when you finish your apprenticeship." He told my brother. "It can be your mastery gift. A hairy, spitting cow horse.”

“Saints preserve us,' Dr. Kellen said, and squeezed Galen's shoulder. 'What have we done to our youth?”

“What does it say? Does he love you madly?”

“It looks as though your shop is doing well," Luka said gazing around, "Could you help me find a gift for a lady friend of mine?"My heart plunged to my grenn satin slippers, and I had to stare down at Azarte for a minute, petting him hard. Naturally Luka had a "lady friend." She was probably nobly born: the daughter of a count or a duke. I imagined her having thick dark hair and clear skin, and was bitterly jealous. "Of course," I stammered after a time. "What would she like? A gown? A sash?" If she came in for a fitting, I decided to "accidentlly" poke her with every pin.”

“I've faced worse than a dressmaker who breaths fire.”