Shannon Hale Quotes

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

The god of creation broke me from stone
The mountain's the only ma I've known
My pa is the blue sky sheltering me
So stone I am and stone I'll be

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.

I read that a gentleman gives a lady flowers, and I thought maybe I'm not a gentleman, but no reason not to treat you like a lady.

She thought now it was time to be tested, to make decisions and find her own roads, to stop falling where she was told to fall and to stand only when allowed to stand.

Life feels like fall of itself."
"'A dream within a dream."
"And I want to wake up.

[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.

Goodness knows she is too fierce for you
Goodness knows she has eyes for a lord
Goodness knows she yet will prove untrue
Her cheek's blush is as false as her word

Raven heard a crunch. "Maddie!" said Raven. "You're not supposed to eat the stone." "Why not?" said Maddie. "It's delightfully crunchy." "How do you even do that?" Raven asked. "I mean, it's a rock." Maddie shrugged. "Sometimes things aren't impossible the first time I try, because I don't know they're impossible yet. I probably couldn't do it again, though.

I was under the stars, like a fish is under water.

1 Pardon this highly unusual footnote, but I must break the Narrator's "fourth wall" to explain that this story will be "tricksy" in more than one way. Kitty Cheshire does not like being narrated. She seems to be aware of my watching her, and she resists. At times her thoughts and feelings squirm away from my inspection. I shall do my best, however, to narrate a completely true story about Ever After's most elusive character.

Ani told them all ... telling more than needed telling, the stories clarifying and unifying themselves in her mind as she let them spill out of her mouth.

Duty doesn't always fit comfortably.

Tell me something true about you."
"Okay …" She mentally rifled through birthplace (Portland, Oregon), college major (sociology), astrological sign (Virgo), favorite movie (The Apple Dumpling Gang - don't judge), until she hit a fact that wasn't completely mundane. "One of my favorite things in the world are those charity events where everyone buys a rubber ducky with a number and the first person's duck to get down the river wins."
"Why?"
"I like seeing the river teeming with all those outrageously yellow and orange ducks. It's so friendly. And I love the hope of it. Even though it doesn't matter if you win, because all that wonderful, candy-colored money is going to something really important like a free clinic downtown or cleft palate operations for children in India, you still have that playful hope that you will win. You run alongside the stream, not knowing which is your duck but imagining the lead one is yours."
"And this is the essence of your soul - the ducky race?"
"Well, you didn't ask for the essence of my soul. You asked for something true about me, and so I went for something slightly embarrassing and secret but true nonetheless. Next time you want the essence of my soul, I'll oblige you with sunsets and baby's laughter and greeting cards with watercolor flowers."
He squinted at her thoughtfully. "No, so far as I'm concerned, the yellow duckies are the essence of your soul.

Is this why women wear heels? thought Jane. We hobble ourselves so we can still be rescued by men?

I don't want you to be lonely," Cedar couldn't help saying. "Or hungry! You two always forget to go shopping till the cupboards are bare. I'll be right back." She grabbed some baskets and ran out of the house.
Old Mother Hubbard's Corner Market was always open early, so Cedar filled her baskets with Pinocchio's and Gepetto's favorite foods: bread, fruitcake, sardines, and humble pie.

Guilt is the hyena that'll lunge from behind and hamstring you.

Finn leaped from his horse to greet Enna, and she entwined herself into him, their arms around each other, their faces close. Thoug they did not kiss, Rin thought that the way they looked at each other was even more intimate.
'Let's get married,' Enna was saying with yearning in her voice. 'Please, let's get married right now.'
Finn put his face into her neck and whispered something that made her hum.

Okay, okay, I can do this, Jane said to herself. Of course I can do this. I should be used to making a fool out of myself by now. This will be the last big one. Just three weeks and then I can leave this part of myself behind and get on with my life. And maybe it'll be fun. It might even be fun.

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.

I can see that one can never pay back Gilsa for the fear that she will give again.

Oh! Apple Wh-wh-white! Hi! Hey. I mean" - his voice lowered - "hey there.

Maybe I got a few words wrong, but that's so near how the conversation went, I'm going to call it truth.

As a general rule, writing is very inconvenient.

More than a thousand days we've been together, more than a thousand songs I've sung for her, and only now, I think, do I see Saren truly begin to heal.

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.

Briar stood, pushing up her sleeves. 'It's about to get all nonfiction in here'.

The woman gestured to a seat and put on a patient face. An impatient sort of patient face, like an impatient face dressing up as a patient one for Halloween.

If it had been a color, it might have been green. If it had touched her ears, it might have sounded rhythmic, like the creak of a rocking chair or drone of a bee. If it had a scent, it might have been sweet and drowsy, like fresh pine on the fire.

But in a country where you hang your dead up on walls and pride whether or not a man bears a javelin more than his character, how am I to persuade you out of a war? It would be suicide for Kildenree to war on Bayern and butchery for Bayern to attack Kildenree. If you don't believe me, then send me back. Or if you don't trust me to leave, I'll return to my little room on the west wall and tend your geese, and you can be sure that on my watch no thieves will touch my flock.

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.

Get back in my cot, girl," said Gilsa. "You're sickly."
No, I'm not," said Ani.
Oh, no? Well, maybe stubbornness is a sickness, did you ever think of that?

Henry

We met on an airplane (economy class) and kissed most of the flight home. Over the Atlantic, we decided to fall in love. When the plane touched down at JFK, he hadn't changed his mind. When he carried me over the threshold of my apartment, no Mrs. Wattlesbrook lurked in the shadows. While he was in the kitchen, I picked Pride and Prejudice out of my (miraculously) sill-living houseplant and tucked it into a harmless spot beside all the other DVDs, spine out and proud.
We're going to order in tonight.

You're better than seven years of food. You're better than windows. You're even better than the sky.

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

Then Rin was hugging him. Relief and joy swelled inside her till she thought she would burst.
"Uh ... ," Razo said, patting her head as if she might be crazy.
"You were dead," she mumbled against his chest.
"I was? Well, I wish someone had told me. Would've been nice to relax on my back for a while. Um, how'd I die?

Maddie was about to follow when a girl beside her said, "Excuse me." Her hair was red, and her cheeks were dusted with light brown freckles. She had a mouth that seemed to want to smile, but for some reason her lips were tight. "I have been standing here for two entire minutes waiting for a seat." "Oh!" said Maddie. "I'm so sorry. I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding." She leaned closer and whispered helpfully, "The seats here don't come to you. You have to walk over to them." The girl's mouth gaped as if she was insulted. Maddie nodded sympathetically. "I agree," Maddie said. "I've often thought that chairs that come to you are a hexcellent idea.

But Princess Magnolia wore glass slippers on weekdays. Princess Magnolia was afraid of snails. Sunlight made Princess Magnolia sneeze. And at the moment, the Princess in Black was hog-tying a monster.

Sometimes it seems my identity's a matter of opinion

He smiled in a way that made me want to kiss him right on the spot. Or the lips. Whichever was closer.

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

His brothers could tease him about his height or the number of scars he was collecting on his body. He could take the joke when they said he would die having never won a fair wrestling match. But the topic of Bettin still smarted too much. He'd imagined being with her always. Now when he closed his eyes, he had trouble imagining anything else.

In Gotham, batman just stumbles into crime," said Luther. "Salt lake is annoyingly tame.

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.

Yes, we'll yell, 'Help, help us, goose girl, and bring the terrifying legion of warrior geese'.

Hunter, Lizzie's not even on our team!" Raven shouted after him. "Aw, he's a big sweetie pie," said Maddie. "A big, sugary banana slice of pie, cutie-sweetie Hunter." A wolf ate Maddie's basket in one toothy bite. Maddie giggled. Ashlynn was on her hands and knees, talking to a wolf. He howled back, nodding and rolling his eyes as if complaining about something in wolf language. She took a pastry from her basket and fed it to him on her palm.

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.

If the world looks too big, I'll hold you that much tighter
If the breeze feels too chill, I'll make the fire hotter
If the storm booms too loud, I'll sing to you still louder
I'll always keep you safe, my tiny, precious daughter

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.

The east says it's dawn
My mouth speaks a yawn
My bed clings to me and begs me to stay
I hear a work song
Say winter is long
I peel myself up and then make away

Hope had been beaten to death. She dried her eyes, shut down her heart, and plunged herself into an emotional coma. So much easier not to feel.

Being a writer is a good, good thing.

Aah, woodpecker! Help!" Cedar shouted. "Woodpecker! Girl made of wood! Not a good combo!" "I'll help you!" Hunter cried. "Here we go," Cupid said, rubbing her hands together. "It's shirt-ripping time." Sure enough, Hunter ripped off his shirt and posed. Invisible horns played a heroic fanfare. Hunter lifted his ax and chased the woodpecker. Which was chasing Cedar. "Aah, ax!" Cedar said, still running. "A woodpecker! And an ax! Aah!

...all things speak, in their way, don't they?

The boar, the stag, and the eagle met on the last craggy peak of the world, look down, and sighed at what they saw. The boar was a king, and he said, "There is not enough people." The stag was a poet, and he said, "There is not enough beauty." The eagle was a cleric, and her said, "There is not enough mystery." Then the wolf, arriving late, looked up instead of down and said, "There is not enough hunger," and promptly ate them all.
If the boar was king, the stag was poet, and the eagle was cleric, then what was the wolf?

Right now I'd like all my troubles to stand in front of me in a straight line, and one by one I'd give each a black eye.

Despite her mother, Raven had always been a nice girl. Yes, she would grow up to poison and rampage and try to destroy all happiness, but that was no reason not to be civil.

I feel like a tiny bug, and the world is a hungry bird looking down at me.

Sometimes my fancy gets to floating inside me, threatening to carry me away like a leaf on a wind. Better to be a stone.

We had something real," Nobley said, starting to sound a little desperate. "You must have felt it, seeping through the costumes and pretenses."
The brunette nodded.
"Seeping through the pretenses? Listen to him, he's still acting." Martin turned to the brunette in search of an ally.
"Do I detect any jealousy there, my flagpole-like friend?" Nobley said. "Still upset that you weren't cast as a gentleman? You do make a very good gardener."
Martin took a swing. Nobley ducked and rammed into his body, pushing them both to the ground. The brunette squealed and bounced on the balls of her feet.
"Stop it!" Jane pulled at Nobley, then slipped. He put out an arm and caught her midfall across her middle.
"Here, let me…" Nobley tried to give her a hand up and push Martin away at the same time.
"Get off me," Martin said. "I'll help her."
He kicked Nobley in the rear, followed by some swatting of hands. Jane planted her feet, grabbed Nobley's arm, and pulled him off. Martin was still swiping at Nobley from the ground. Nobley's cap fell off, then his trench coat twisted up around Martin, who batted at it crazily.
"Cut it out!" Jane said, pushing Nobley back and putting herself between them. She felt more like a teacher stopping a schoolboy scuffle than an ingénue with two brawling beaus.
"M-m-martin's gay!" Nobley said.
"I am not! You're thinking of Edgar."
"Who the hell is Edgar?"
"You know, that other gardener who always sm

No. I'm a wreck," she said in the squeaky high voice of one who is determined not to cry. "You do not seem like it," Mrs. Wattlesbrook squeaked back. "Thanks," Charlotte chirped. "I do yoga. Ninety percent of confidence is posture.

I mean, without the antagonist, there would be no story! It'd be like: 'Once upon a time there was a girl who wanted to be loved, so she met a prince and got married and lived Happily Ever After, The End'? That's not a story; that's a bumper sticker.

Careful with the accusations of insanity, oh my lady whose home is a tower with windows of brick, all for the sake of some skinny-ankled, laugh-prone boy of a khan.

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

A few minutes later, Miss Charming gasped. But then, Miss Charming gasped a lot. She gasped when someone shut a door too loudly; she gasped when there were sausages for breakfast. She sometimes gasped and then coughed, as if she'd meant to cough from the beginning and gotten the two confused.

Thank you, sir. Thus far the highlight of my stay has been making love to you.
Mr. Nobley bowed in acknowledgment. The conversation completely quieted.

But man, can she snore," Cedar smiled wistfully, "Do you think when I become a real girl I'll be able to snore, too?

Every night before bed, her mother had told her a story that should have been frightening: Scary Evil Queen. Huntsman ordered to cut out her heart. Lost in dark woods with grabby trees. Dwarves, dwarves, more dwarves. Old peddler lady giving her a strangling ribbon. Old peddler lady giving her a poisoned comb. Old peddler lady giving her a poisoned apple. Crunch. Gasp. Faint (beautifully). Dead sleep. Cold glass coffin. Empty dreams. Then ... kiss. Wake. Prince! Cheering dwarves. Huge choreographed dance number. Happily Ever After.

Maybe T-shirts should stick to something obvious, like i'm a girl or 80% water or likely to breathe.

Rock Canyon OB-GYN: We're GYNO-MITE!

Here's the thing about home: you can create it most anywhere, as long as you gather your people around you.

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.

The first building she reached appeared to be an old barn. Only one young guard stood before its bolted door, staring at her with wide eyes, holding up his sword in defense, She heated his sword and he dropped it, his expression barely changing, as if he had been expecting that. She held up her two swords to his throat, but they were two heavy, so she dropped one and held the other with both hands. "Where are the two Bayern boys kept?" The soldier shook his head. BURN HIM, prompted the fire. The excitement of burning was simmering in her, heating her up for more action.

Soon the trees affected not only her mood but her understanding. Each year a trunk put on a new ring of growth, and within those rings she found the tree's own story. She listened to the scent of it, the feel, the sound, and her mind gave it words- soil, water, sap, light ... and before, night and rain, dry and sun, wind and night ... the drowsy stillness of leaves in a rainfall, the sparkling eagerness of leaves in the sun, and always the pulling up of the branches, the tugging down of the roots, the forever growing in tow directions, joing sky and soil, and a center to keep it strong ...
-Rin, Forest Born

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.

He had a dashing smile. It nearly dashed right off his face.

Uge, save me from the sauce of their loveyness-raso
Forest Born

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

I despise rushing headlong into a mystery. Much more satisfying to dip in a toe, test the waters, ease in slowly before we start to swim.

Razo hopped back up and adopted a posture that said he was completely unruffled, never had been, and in fact was ready to do something manly like lift boulders or swallow live worms.

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

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.

If we're mad, we're mad in large numbers, at least larger than yours.

Sometimes doing the right thing was hard ... and potentially messy. But a good leader always did the right thing.

Falling in love and falling to your death feel about the same, I thought. And I almost laughed.

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

And he was introduced to Loki, the family's hairless cat.

"The kids wanted another pet," Becky explained as Felix stared in horror at the creature beside him. "But with Polly's allergies . . ."

"You are lying to me. You borrowed this creature from a zoo to play a prank on me. This isn't even really a cat, is it? This is some sort of rat and opossum hybrid. This is a lifelike Japanese robot that can dance to disco music."

"Funny. They're called sphinx cats. Come on, feel her skin. Like peach fuzz, right? Isn't she sweet? Give her a good rub. She's very affectionate."

"Ah-ha, yes, isn't that just . . . er, what is coating my hands?"

"It's . . . it's like a body wax. I should've bathed her before you came. The hairless cats, they ooze this waxy stuff to protect their skin. 'Cause they don't have hair. To protect them. So the waxy ooze helps. You see."

Felix stared at her for several seconds, his hands held up like a doctor about to perform surgery.

"I'm going to wash my hands now. And I'm going to try very hard not to run out of this house screaming.

Twenty-two hours, forty-seven minutes, and eighteen seconds to go!

Who am I to tell a man to live? Who am I to claim the powers of the Ancestors? I moved aside so the shawman could have more room to do his holy work. He's climbed the Scared Mountain and seen the face of the Ancestors. I have no place beside him. -Dashti

You'd better not talk about microscopes anymore," he whispered, "or I don't know if I can control myself.

No one had ever called her wild before. She wanted to be wild now, for him. Wild seemed more enticing then a bowl of berries.

The three girls were sitting and lying beside her, holding one another, weeping, their arms and legs and hair tangled like the roots of close trees, sobs shaking them like leaves in a high wind.

Why was the judgment of the disapproving so valuable?

She read like a woman drinks water after nearly dying of dehydration.

Some postdivorce statistics:
* James saw the children 75 percent less than before.
* He missed 85 percent of their afterschool woes.
* He was absent for 99 percent of their family dinners.
Screw statistics. ONe hundred percent of Charlotte's marriage had ended in divorce, and for her, that was the only number that meant anything at all.

Razo wasn't good at anything except maybe cramming two cherries up one nostril.

Madeline Hatter was in the Enchanted Forest by sunrise, the best time of day to find charm blossoms. The vibrant pink flowers bloomed only in the morning, twirling on their stems toward the rising sun. Maddie added a few to her basket of wild peppermint, chamomile flowers, and dragon scales. A white rabbit paused nearby, sniffing some clover. "How

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

Martin of Sheffield,
Age Twenty-Nine
He kissed her like she knew she was meant to be kissed. He smelled of gardens, tricked her brain into believing she was irresistible, and made the idea of falling in love seem possible again.
But really he was an actor posing as a gardener, who posed as a gentleman during balls in an Austenland estate where she'd gone to find out if she could let her fantasy of Mr. Darcy die at last. Seriously.
Also, he turned out to be a jackass.

Even stories need a chance to sleep.