Emma Raveling Quotes

Fast food, fast money, shallow thinking, shallow interpretations. This is now what I deal with everyday. Art was meant to be about freedom, about having the courage to explore what it means to be human.

I'd spent my life searching for something I couldn't name.
And as I drowned in the torrential flow of conflicting desires, caught in the relentless roar of water, earth, blood, and war, I reached out - wildly, desperately - and found it with him.

In a world of prophecy and war, where so much of my life followed a path laid out by duty and destiny,Tristan had enough strength to give me what no one else could. The one precious thing I needed the most. A choice.

I walked forward simply because there was no going back.

The piano entered the story, bringing a new voice to the narrative. Her fingers brushed the keys, her heart straining to find satisfaction in the harmonic shifts and subtle colorings.

It wasn't there.

Leila closed her eyes, tried new ways of speaking a phrase - holding back, pushing forward, adding an unexpected accent, waiting a breath before the harmonic resolution.

But she couldn't find it.

She pushed the music forward with frantic exhilaration, dragging the orchestra behind her.
René shot her a warning look.
Leila drove hard, demanding they follow, viciously attacking the finale as she searched for what eluded her.

But when the last chord exploded, ringing with a rage composed of love and longing, Leila felt nothing but a drained emptiness.

It was as if the reins keeping her in control, in the carefully constructed environment where she'd always created music, had snapped and broken away.
Everything had felt just beyond reach. The notes had danced before her but she'd been unable to grasp them, to own and mold them into what she wanted to say.

"Brava!"

Leila blinked.

People stood, flooding the hall with a deluge of approval for her sacrifice on stage.

An artist's domain was private, a haven for practicing and experimenting, the one place where failure was still allowed.

Sometimes we think we're losing something when we're really finding something else.

Love was as flawed and terrible and beautiful as we were.
To be alive meant looking for it in ourselves and in others, an imperfection searching for an impossible perfection.
Because in that journey was where truth resided.
Love wasn't about being held. It was about being freed.

Mortals search for what they are unable to give, what they lack within themselves.

What happened to your face?"
"Dentist."
"They're all con artists.

"Dentist."
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Perfect beauty could be so ugly.

I want you to find what you seek, live the way you choose," he whispered. "Even if it means I can never touch you again. I will never abandon you because I love you.

I swear you don't know how to have any fun at all," I teased.
"This is not exactly my idea of it," he said wryly.
I gestured toward the ballroom. "But you're royal. It's your kind of party. You should be relaxed, letting everyone suck up to you."
He laughed and my chest tightened. God, I loved that sound.
"Kendra, not everything about being royal is enjoyable."
"So what would you consider fun?" I asked, curious.
Tristan was obviously well-liked and respected. But I'd never seen him when he wasn't in either instructor, gardinel, or prince mode. I got the feeling he wasn't very social and spent a lot of time alone.
His eyes turned thoughtful. "Relaxing in a quiet room with a nice glass of scotch, listening to Bach."
I rolled my eyes. "Are you serious, grandpa?"
He hid a smile.

In music, she'd found a perfect language, a way of expressing the inexpressible.

It was the lie of the American Dream -work hard and you'll win, that poisonous mantra poured down the throat of every child, every teacher, every adult who wondered why they were still stuck in the same place after forty years of overtime, with nothing to show but bone-weary exhaustion, shitty health, and a pile of bills.

I resented the reference to my super ninja moves as "sneaking around." "Displaying superior stealth" or "using viper-like reflexes" would have been much better

Some deaths were long, the decay so gradual the rotted end was nothing more than a sigh disappearing in the wind.
Others were quick, the abrupt cut of a life in mid-phrase leaving unanswered questions lingering like an unresolved harmony.

The flower drifted, light and open, gliding a path through still water like the faint stirrings of a dream.

To be ready does not mean it will be easy. It doesn't mean it will be smooth. It means that even when it's difficult, you have what it takes to survive.

We all choose, Kendra. In the end, we can only hope we've chosen wisely. Regret is a horrible monster to flee from.

Let us help."
"You already did." My voice didn't betray anything. "Both of you helped plan this. You lent me this
car. Aubrey put up the funds."
He raised his brow. "Lending you this car doesn't count as helping. It was more like public service.
If you drove your car, the noise would wake up all of Haverleau."
"It's not that bad - "
"Yeah, if you want to be as obvious as a rhinoceros."
I gave a pointed look at his lime-green coat and bright maroon sweater.
Talk about burning my retinas. "Pot calling kettle."
He glanced at himself. "It's seasonal. I look Christmasy.

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