Shannon Hale

“I was thinking how you can't tell if a person's beautiful or not by her shadow...”

“Sometimes it seems my identity’s a matter of opinion”

“I think so. There are so many tales, so strange and beautiful and perfect. They are not what are real, but better. I thought I had something that was magic once, but I lost it, and now I don’t think it was at all.” She touched her chest where the handkerchief had been and frowned. “I wish there was magic. If all the tales were true, then maybe they could tell me what I’m doing, and what I am to do now.”“Ah, now, don’t cry over lost years and forgetfulness. The tales tell what they can. The rest is for us to learn. The question is, are we smart enough to figure for ourselves? Now, that’s what I’d like to know.”

“These stories had intrigued her with their strange mix of violence and love, so unlike the distant, passionless affection of her own mother.She thought, she hoped, that the handkerchief was something fantastic, like a piece of a tale, but real, and just for her, a symbol of the real, hidden love of her mother.”

“If you're listening Big Brother, I refuse to be Fanny Price.”

“Katar," said Britta, "I thought you would want to stay with your friends from home while they were here, so I had your things moved from your room in the delegates' wing." "You can have my things brought in too," said Peder, throwing himself onto the nearest bed. He sighed as he sank into the soft mattress and rolled onto his side. "Um... I don't think boys are-" Britta began. "Don't you mind me!" Peder pulled a blanket over his head. Miri didn't know how he could even pretend to fall asleep. She could barely keep from pacing. "Don't worry, Britta," said Esa. "We'll kick him out before night. Off to your fancy apprenticeship, big brother." She nudged Peder's shape under the blanket. Peder made an exaggerated snoring noise.”

“I need to admit up front that I don't know how to have a fling. I'm not good at playing around and then saying good-bye. I'm throwing myself at your feet because I'm hoping for a shot at forever." Henry Jenkins/Mr. Nobley”

“There was a burst of laughter so sudden Miri jumped to her feet in alarm. Bena and Liana had pushed Peder out of the bed and onto the floor. He in turn leaped on Liana's bed, clinging to it and laughing as the girls tugged at his ankles."So, are you two betrothed?" Katar asked."No," Miri said shortly."Ohh." Katar smirked, one eyebrow raised, and she looked altogether more like her old self. "It appears I stumbled upon a topic of conversation even more dangerous than revolution.”

“[Boyfriend #8] He left for an internship in Guatamala, a step towards his future career in international affairs. They both cried at the airport. He returned 6 months later and, didn't call. Last year, Jane heard that Bobby, 'Robert' now, was running for Congress. At a recent polling, he wasn't doing so hot in the 30-something-jilted-female demographic.”

“...Age gave her the peace, at least, to live inside that moment like a poet - to not sacrifice the beauty to the anxiety of What Next, but to just observe.”

“Colonel Andrews was fair-haired with a decent set of shoulders and a very ready smile. He could not seem more pleased to see her, bowing without removing his gaze from her face. 'What a pleasure. A very, pleasant pleasure, indeed.'The way his tone slid over his words gave him a delightful, roguish appeal that made Jane want to kiss him on the spot. Or the lips. Whichever was closer.”

“You, uh, caught me there at an unladylike moment. Mrs. Wattlesbrook would probably box my ears.""That's why I spoke. I wanted to let you know you were not alone before you did something--something worse.""Like what?""Whatever women do when they think they're alone.”

“Sometimes instinct isn't fancy.”

“I always knew it was ill-fated, but he truly believed I would be his bride. I guess I'd never realized that before. He had taken my mucker hand and looked at my mottled face and believed we would wed. And he hadn't seemed sorry. In fact, he'd swooped me up in a corridor and kissed me.That set me to crying.”

“Even stories need a chance to sleep.”

“Breakfast should always come before sleuthing.”

“She was not who she'd thought she was. No one was.”

“My ma says You can't unspill a stew.""She also says Undoing a wrong is greater than doing a right.""You know, Ma is very good at saying two things at once.”

“[Razo] knocked, peered inside, then jumped and shut the door, quiet as brushing two feathers together. He smiled at his own stealth, then swaggered right into a chair, banging it against the wall.You oaf. He cut short his swagger and began to move with exaggerated sneakiness.”

“To be powerful, a kiss should make a journey, be its own story--begin with hesitation, move to realization, then melt into bliss.”

“Am I the moss on your bark, then?" Ani asked.Enna grabbed her around the waist and shook her affectionately. "You're the mossiest girl I know.”

“Saying my story makes me want to change it, make it sound pretty the way I do with the stories I tell the workers. I'd like it to have a beginning as grand as a ball and an ending in a whisper, like a mother tucking in a child for sleep.”

“‎"Repeat that?""It's National Talk Like a Pirate Day. Didn't you know?""Somehow I missed the memo.""You mean, 'Somehow I missed the memo, arrr!'""Precisely. Arr. So, Mrs. Jack... Er, is that still your name? Or, I tremble to ask, have you adopted a pirate identity?""Arr, matey, of course I have! It's..." She pulled an eggplant from the grocery bag. "Captain Eggplantier." She needed to stop speaking the first words that popped into her mind."Captain Eggplanteir." He sounded very doubtful. "That's right. A family name. It's Belgian.”

“Once she'd thought all the knowledge in the world was contained in the princess academy's thirteen books. Now she faced thousands. She wondered if she should curtsy as if she were entering a chapel.”

“No matter that we could be beheaded for this,” said Esa. “Heads are overrated.”“Yes, they are so unfashionable,” said Miri, imitating an Aslandian accent. “This spring, ladies of style are wearing their feathers in their necks.”

“Your head will be fine,” said Miri. “It’s your neck you should worry about.”

“My ma says a rock lasts forever, but people don’t, and that’s what makes them more precious.”

“Listen to your second thought, or the third might be too late.”

“You can be who you will,” he repeated. His voice softened. “And if you will have me, I will be the one beside you.”

“Words can fall hard like a boulder loosed from a cliff.Words can drift unnoticed like a weed seed on a breeze. Words can sing.”

“You forgot to cough!” he said.“Sorry.” She coughed.“Your sneakiness is dangerous. Next time that chisel will lodge itself in my head.”“Now, Peder, there’s plenty of stone around here for carving. No need to practice on your own face.”He stroked his chin. “You’re right, my jaw is already chiseled to perfection.”She agreed, but she felt too silly to say so aloud.”

“I’ve always believed that as an author, I do 50% of the work of storytelling, and the reader does the other 50%. There’s no way I can control the story you tell yourself from my book. Your own experiences, preferences, prejudices, mood at the moment, current events in your life, needs and wants influence how you read my every word.”

“The snow was too light to stay, the ground too warm to keep it. And the strange spring snow fell only in that golden moment of dawn, the turning of the page between night and day.”

“I'm writing a first draft and reminding myself that I'm simply shoveling sand into a box so that later I can build castles.”

“Oh land of farms and green hills mildOnce formed by giants rough and wildWith massive paws they gripped and toreWith one great rip they formed the shoreWhere heavy boots left prints so deepBlue lakes remain 'tween summits steepThe giants fought beneath our skiesAnd from their bones our mountains rise”

“The army slew a thousand and showed little pityThe king ordered fealty from the conquered cityThe prince charmed its people with words wise and wittyAnd the queen sat on a couch, looking very pretty”

“She wore white heirloom lace about her throatAnd in her hair a bright golden featherA pearl like a plum hung ripe from her neckBut her smile fetched ten gold together”

“She's as fetching as brown hair done up with ribbons blueThe mountain, my ladyShe's as sweet as pink flowers made bright with morning dew,Mount Eskel, my lady”

“When the mountain quaked Like an elbow's nudgeLike a shout that something is wrongThe people awoke andKnew, yes, knew, that bandits had come”

“Bury the embers, extinguish the sparkWe plunge ourselves in the well of darkFar from voices that trouble and chatterDown, deep down, where worries don't matterOur minds all teem with the unseen thingBut night is a blink and sleep but a dreamWake, wake, see things as they seem”

“We stand up for the farmers Who can't keep enough to eatWe walk out for the workersWho don't know the taste of meatWe run forward for the childrenWith no shoes upon their feetWe will march this kingdom downWe will break the golden crown”

“Loan me your lace of yellow, sisterLend me your fine kid glovesTonight is the bridal ball, sisterTonight I'll meet my lovePresent me a sash of blue, sisterGift me a ribbon of whiteMy love awaits me below, sisterI am a bride tonight”

“Goodness knows she is too fierce for youGoodness knows she has eyes for a lordGoodness knows she yet will prove untrueHer cheek's blush is as false as her word”

“Hear the leaves applaudingHear the wind hurrahingHear the surf guffawingThe ways of old are deadThe queen has lost her head”

“A need, a need, a need have IA wish, a wish, a wish, I sigh”

“He is ever ingloriousHis laugh is laboriousHis smell is notoriousImpale the herring king!”

“King Dan sat on his stallion fierceSwords did slice and spears did pierceBut in a tree upon the fieldPerched a small, keen-eyed blackbirdAnd the blackbird did not singNo, the blackbird did not sing”

“No small thing, a bee's stingWhen it enters the heartNot so benign, the growing vineWhen it tears stone apart”

“Tis I, my sweet, your rough-and-ready manWell hid by night to beg your fine white handThough king of bandits, draped in chains of goldI'm poor in love and suffer grief untold”

“Once there was a queen in a palace of bread.Sing blue, sing white, stay up all night.She nibbled on the walls and gobbled up her bed.Sing white, sing blue, sing ballyhoo.The people begged a crumb from their robust queen.Sing blue, sing white, she ate all night.She would not share a thing until it turned green.So white, so blue, the mold it grew.”