Gillian Bronte Adams Quotes

I've freed you once tonight, and I would rather not do it again. I prefer to commit treason as few times as possible.

But I say that this isn't the Underground. We are the Underground. You . . . me . . . all of your brothers, sisters, friends. This cavern is nothing more than a hole in the ground. We make it something more. No matter where we are, so long as we survive and stick together, the Underground is not lost.

Sure. I generally make it a point not to refuse anyone with a weapon in my face.

Honestly, he was surprised to wake up each morning and find that his brains had not been bashed out in his sleep.

Gundhrold's head lowered until his massive beak was only inches away from Amos's nose. "I am a son of the desert. This was once my home - the home of all my kind. I know every crag, every slope, every crick and hollow-"
Amos rolled his eyes. "Every blatherin' speck o' sand?

So what's the plan?"
"Not dying.

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Don't look so stiff and concerned, bucko. Word from the wise, sometimes there's no better place to hide than in the open, and no better way to disappear than to stand out."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Sure it does. Hogan wrote it years and years ago - you do know who Hogan is right?

There were problems with having a reputation like his. Folks either wanted your hide or wanted you to save theirs. There was never any happy, indifferent middle ground.

You are all broken, Songkeeper... But not beyond repair.

At the worst times, the best plan was often no plan. And Ky excelled at coming up with no plan.

A chill settled over Birdie. She had caught glimpses of her face before - once in the watering trough in the Sylvan Swan's stable after she had given it a good scrubbing, another time in the birch-shaded pool beside the road to Hardale. There was no doubt that the face on the parchment resembled her own, but there were slight differences. It was older than the face she remembered, older than she could look now. Stunning in a way one was not likely to forget. But there was something about the eyes that captivated her, caused her to reach out her hand and trace the line of one arching brow.
Such strength there, such confidence.
This was not the face of one with fear caged in her chest.

Thinking sure could get a fellow in a lot of trouble. Almost as much as opening his big gabber and sticking his muddy foot in it.

Listen little Songkeeper, the voice whispered, and I will sing you a Song.

Why did the sand-blasted catbird have to be so seaswoggling logical? It was downright infuriating.

It called her by name. Birdie. Songkeeper. Beloved. You are mine.

I, on the other hand, have no faith that your mission - whatever it is - can succeed. I'm content to bide my time here in this tiny, damp, worm-infested hovel and wait for the world to end. Cheers.

My people prepare for a battle we cannot win in a war intended for our destruction. Why should I risk their safety to rescue a legend?

They say 'Chaos is the ally of the desperate man,' and I reckon it applies to dwarves and snot-nosed boys too. Let's test is at the front gate, shall we?

I trust you have a plan?"
Ky stifled a chuckle. 'Course he didn't have a plan. In instances like these, having too much of a plan was almost certain to get you killed. Better to trust instinct and not box yourself in with expectations.

There is a moment between life and death when the chain of time is broken.

With a rumble of disapproval, the griffin removed his paw from Slack's back. She scrambled upright and darted out of reach, eyeing her discarded hatchet but evidently not daring to match her speed against the griffin's. First wise move Ky could recollect her making. Ever. Slack opened her mouth, but Gundhrold fixed her with a stern glare, silencing her before she could speak.