Shannon Hale Quotes

No more crying. It's all wetness and no comfort at all.

But, how do you know if an ending is truly good for the characters unless you've traveled with them through every page?

All I've ever wanted was to be near you.

Many times I have learned that, you never judge a book by its cover. Like people, it is the inside that counts.

It was karma, it was kismet, it was magic. It doesn't matter how it happened, just that it did.

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

Mama used to say, you have to know someone a thousand days before you can glimpse her soul.

I think the only way to get through this life is laughing hard and constantly, mostly at myself.

Her smile was peculiar - it made her nose wrinkle, not as though she smelled something unpleasant, but more that she was so amused, her whole face wanted to be a part of the smile.

Even the jerks earn some of our affection. We can be glad they're gone and yet still mourn the good parts.

You are my butterfly and refuse to set you free.

I do like the world quite a lot.

Razo knew he was best at nothing, except maybe cramming two cherries into a single nostril.

The rewrites are a struggle right now. Sometimes I wish writing a book could just be easy for me at last. But when I think about it practically, I am glad it's a struggle. I am (as usual) attempting to write a book that's too hard for me. I'm telling a story I'm not smart enough to tell. The risk of failure is huge. But I prefer it this way. I'm forced to learn, forced to smarten myself up, forced to wrestle. And if it works, then I'll have written something that is better than I am.

... If we don't tell strange stories, when something strange happens we won't believe it.

Being a writer is a good, good thing.

Oh land of farms and green hills mild Once formed by giants rough and wild With massive paws they gripped and tore With one great rip they formed the shore Where heavy boots left prints so deep Blue lakes remain 'tween summits steep The giants fought beneath our skies And from their bones our mountains rise

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.

Throwing herself into learning helped Miri ignore the painful chill of solitude around her.

I'm not bossy - I just happen to be more capable than most everyone else.

She touched the healthy folds of skin around the baby's neck, wrists, and thighs, the dark lines crying for life made in his forehead, and thought how people start with wrinkles and end with wrinkles, grow into their skin and then live to grow out of it again.

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.

I'm sorry Finn. I'm a wooden-headed dummy.' Don't be so hard on yourself,' said Finn. 'You're just a straw-brained scarecrow.

The to Cathal was battered and only one wagon wide, with swells of hard earth where mud had frozen during cold ad rainy seasons. Enna tripped often, and cursed each time she tripped, until Dasha said, "Enna, you might watch your language." Enna grimaced. "I was. You should hear my thoughts.

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.

I know I would crumble if I lost you.

He looked at her, and the clarity of his dark eyes struck her heart with a sensation of a wound touched.

Look no farther than your hand, Make a choice and take a stand.

The book smelled dusty and old but also carried a sweet tang, a hint of something inviting. She opened to the first page and started to read, pronouncing the words in a reverent whisper.

She wore white heirloom lace about her throat And in her hair a bright golden feather A pearl like a plum hung ripe from her neck But her smile fetched ten gold together

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.

I, Geric-Sinath of Gerhard, declare that you're beautiful and you're perfect and I'll slay any man who tries to take you from my side. Goose girl, may I kiss you?

For Colin Firth: You're a really great guy, but I'm married, so I think we should just be friends.

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.

We know it's all just daydreaming...But sometimes, it'd be nice just to hold something real in your hands that felt like a measure of your worth.

For one thing, everyone there is so clever. Do they think me dull? Perhaps I should assure them that our goats enjoyed listening to me for hours on end. I am certain their bleats meant "Do go on, Miri, darling. You are immensely entertaining." Your immensely entertaining sister, Miri

He nodded. "And if I don't make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world every day of your life, then I don't deserve to be near you.

Smell is the voice of the soul.

But the hoping, that's what really hurts.

She dismounted, grabbed Enna's hand so tightly that she drew blood with her fingernails, walked straight into the nearest cottage, and plopped down on a bed. Enna nodded to the startled cottage dwellers. It's the queen, you see," said Enna. "She's going to have a baby in your house. You don't mind?

No wolf falters before the bite So strike No hawk wavers before the dive Just strike

There you go...let it all slide out. Unhappiness can't stick in a person's soul when it's slick with tears.

He would never abandon her, never leave a gaping hole, and even if he died someday, he was preserved like a lab specimen from all the alcohol he imbibed, so he wouldn't look or act much different.

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.

You saw my leg?" "How can a man help what he sees?" he said. "And, if I could add, you possess a very fine leg.

Seriously, a thirty-something woman shouldn't be daydreaming about a fictional character in a two-hundred-year-old world to the point where it interfered with her very real and much more important life and relationships. Of course she shouldn't.

I'm a terrible prince. I should put my kingdom first and everything else second, but your first. I want you by my side every second, but I know I would crumble if I lost you.

Just like the old adage--what you dislike most in other people is what you dislike the most in yourself--

Isi, I’m trying to say that you’ve been… no, you’re so, you’re–” He stopped. "You are,” he said. His hand found hers, and he held her finger tightly, as though he did not dare to do any more than hold her one hand, and look at her, and breathe deeply.

I'm Razo, a member of Bayern's Own," he said, stopping himself from adding "Loafing is just a hobby of mine." "Bayern's Own? But you're a child." Razo looked up to the sky. "I'm not a child, I'm just short.