Wren Quotes

On the Gallows Once
Kofi Awoonor

I crossed quite a few
of your rivers, my gods,
into this plain where thirst reigns
I heard the cry of mourners
the long cooing of the African wren at dusk
the laughter of the children at dawn
had long ceased
night comes fast in our land
where indeed are the promised vistas
the open fields, blue skies, the singing birds
and abiding love?
History records acts
of heroism, barbarism
of some who had power
and abused it massively
of some whose progenitors
planned for them
the secure state of madness
from which no storm can shake them;
of some who took the last ships
disembarked on some far-off shores and forgot
of some who simply laid down the load
and went home to the ancestors ~ Kofi Awoonor

Hairy monkeyballs!" I hiss. "Dogshit on a stick! Puke pancakes!"
A head pokes in. Wren, green eyes smiling, walks over to my bed.
"I knew you were awake. Who else spews such original and captivating swears? ~ Sara Wolf

So you know, i'm thinking that you can either keep yourself safe and not feel anything, or you can the risk of just loving him and letting him love you." she paused. "Is he worth the risk? And if not what is? What are you willing to take risk for, Wren? ~ Lauren Myracle

A time will come when men will stretch out their eyes. They should see planets like our Earth. ~ Christopher Wren

And then the wren gan scippen and to daunce. ~ Geoffrey Chaucer

I reach down and grab my cock
the rolling scenery in my mind
far from peaceful ~ Wren Verlaine

Making love to Wren still feels like healing, like being made anew. ~ Natasha Ngan

I honor the wisdom of life. I learn from life in all its forms. The tree teaches me. The sparrow and the wren sing my song. I am open to the lessons Life brings me from the earth. I learn from the wind, from the sun, from the small flowers, and from the stars. I walk without arrogance. I learn from all I encounter. I open my mind and heart to the guidance and love that come to me from the natural world. ~ Julia Cameron

When I came up, I chanced a look at him. A mistake. The famished, wounded set of his body hinted agony. That he was dangerous seemed secondary to how alive I became. I'd been pretty all my life, but no one had ever watched me as Mark Donahue did now - as if I were a mythical creature.
I hooked my elbows over the side of the tub, nipples pressed against the slick porcelain, and crooked a finger at him. "Come here."
He was on his feet immediately. I stood, naked skin steaming, smelling like Johanna's gardenias, not like Wren at all. Like someone loved and desperately needed. But he kept his distance, as if I were the dangerous one. ~ Talia Vines

Do you think I absorbed all the impact? That when Mom left, it hit my side of the car? Fuck that, Wren. She left you, too."

"But it didn't break me. Nothing can break me unless I let it."

"Do you think Dad let it? Do you think he chose to fall apart when she left?"

"Yes!" Wren was shouting now. "And I think he keeps choosing. I think you both do. You'd rather be broken than move on. ~ Rainbow Rowell

What happened to your hair, tiger? (Fang) It fell off. (Wren) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

He was of opinion that what we now vulgarly call the Gothick, ought properly and truly be named Saracenick Architecture refined by the Christians. ~ Christopher Wren

I trace my genealogy back to the land. Human and wild, I can see myself whole, not isolated but integrated in time and place. Our genetic makeup is not so different from the collared lizard, the canyon wren now calling, or the great horned owl who watches from the cottonwood near the creek. Mountain lion is as mysterious a creature as any soul I know. Is not the tissue of family always a movement between harmony and distance? ~ Terry Tempest Williams

But it's the hope of something better that keeps us going ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Peeing on a stick is not as easy as it sounds! #WhenRavensFall ~ Matilda Wren

That's the trouble with having a "click" as Mary Wren might call it. When you define yourself by walls, who's in, who's out. The people on the other side of the wall become, not just them, but them. The outsiders. The opposition. The enemy. ~ Ruth Ware

Words

Be careful of words,
even the miraculous ones.
For the miraculous we do our best,
sometimes they swarm like insects
and leave not a sting but a kiss.
They can be as good as fingers.
They can be as trusty as the rock
you stick your bottom on.
But they can be both daisies and bruises.
Yet I am in love with words.
They are doves falling out of the ceiling.
They are six holy oranges sitting in my lap.
They are the trees, the legs of summer,
and the sun, its passionate face.
Yet often they fail me.
I have so much I want to say,
so many stories, images, proverbs, etc.
But the words aren't good enough,
the wrong ones kiss me.
Sometimes I fly like an eagle
but with the wings of a wren.
But I try to take care
and be gentle to them.
Words and eggs must be handled with care.
Once broken they are impossible
things to repair. ~ Anne Sexton

This Byrd wants a Wren. ~ Leslea Tash

I go to the shelf and pick out a few poetry books to take with me. A few old favorites and a few I haven't gotten to yet. As I slip the books into my carry-on, it occurs to me that there really are a lot of poems about death, that I've always read many poems about dying, but had almost never noticed them before. They were always the ones I lightly skimmed, and I thought that maybe I could start reading these poems more carefully. It was almost nothing, but it was also a decision about my life. ~ Jacob Wren

Despite his words, Lee knew that with someone like Wren, the amount of time didn't really matter all that much. She was the kind of person who could leave a mark with just one meeting. ~ Stephanie Fournet

The day is early with birds beginning and the wren in a cloud piping like the child in the poem, drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe. And the place grows bean flower, pea-green lush of grass, swarm of insects dizzily hitting the high spots; dunny rosette creeping covering shawl ream in a knitted cosy of roses; ah the tipsy wee small hours of insects that jive upon the crippled grass blades and the face of the first flower alive. ~ Janet Frame

That look he was giving her right now made everything stand still... ~ Matilda Wren

Und nicht wahr, wenn man ihn zwänge, in das Licht selbst zu sehen, so würde er Schmerzen an den Augen haben, davonlaufen und sich wieder jenen Schattengegenständen zuwenden, die er ansehen kann, und würde dabei bleiben, diese wären wirklich deutlicher als die, welche er gezeigt bekam?

And if he is compelled to look straight at the light, will he not have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away to take and take in the objects of vision which he can see, and which he will conceive to be in reality clearer than the things which are now being shown to him? ~ Plato

Nothing can break me unless I let it. ~ Rainbow Rowell

When you can do that, little Wren, when you can accept the wearing down and the eroding, then you can do anything. How did I manage to keep going out nights? I just told myself I didn't matter all that much - that those in here mattered more. You know something? It's not so hard really. You just have to get past the fear. ~ Terry Brooks

The idea of losing him made her realize how much she wanted him, because yes. Love. Charlie and Wren. Their souls colliding. And they were human, and they made mistakes, both of them, but by herself, Wren was alone. With Charlie, she was half of the 'us' he talked about, only that didn't come close to expressing what she knew to be true: that together they didn't simply become one. They became greater than one. ~ Lauren Myracle

Cath ran her fingers along the cover, over the raised gold type.
Then someone else ran right into her, pushing the book into Cath's chest. Pushing two books into her chest. Cath looked up just as Wren threw an arm around her.
"They're both crying," Cath heard Reagan say. "I can't even watch."
Cath freed an arm to wrap around her sister. "I can't believe it's really over," she whispered.
Wren held her tight and shook her head. She really was crying, too. "Don't be so melodramatic, Cath," Wren laughed hoarsely. "It's never over ... It's Simon. ~ Rainbow Rowell

With the motto "do what you will," Rabelais gave himself permission to do anything he damn well pleased with the language and the form of the novel; as a result, every author of an innovative novel mixing literary forms and genres in an extravagant style is indebted to Rabelais, directly or indirectly. Out of his codpiece came Aneau's Alector, Nashe's Unfortunate Traveller, López de Úbeda's Justina, Cervantes' Don Quixote, Béroalde de Verville's Fantastic Tales, Sorel's Francion, Burton's Anatomy, Swift's Tale of a Tub and Gulliver's Travels, Fielding's Tom Jones, Amory's John Buncle, Sterne's Tristram Shandy, the novels of Diderot and maybe Voltaire (a late convert), Smollett's Adventures of an Atom, Hoffmann's Tomcat Murr, Hugo's Hunchback of Notre-Dame, Southey's Doctor, Melville's Moby-Dick, Flaubert's Temptation of Saint Anthony and Bouvard and Pecuchet, Twain's Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Frederick Rolfe's ornate novels, Bely's Petersburg, Joyce's Ulysses, Witkiewicz's Polish jokes, Flann O'Brien's Irish farces, Philip Wylie's Finnley Wren, Patchen's tender novels, Burroughs's and Kerouac's mad ones, Nabokov's later works, Schmidt's fiction, the novels of Durrell, Burgess (especially A Clockwork Orange and Earthly Powers), Gaddis and Pynchon, Barth, Coover, Sorrentino, Reed's Mumbo Jumbo, Brossard's later works, the masterpieces of Latin American magic realism (Paradiso, The Autumn of the Patriarch, Three Trapped Tigers, I the Supreme, Avalovara, Terra Nostra, Palin ~ Steven Moore

Wisdom! To leave his wife, to leave his babes,
His mansion and his titles, in a place
From whence himself does fly? He loves us not.
He wants the natural touch; for the poor wren,
The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
All is the fear and nothing is the love,
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason ~ William Shakespeare

You cannot fly like an eagle with the wings of a wren. ~ William Henry Hudson

People who manage to maintain some sort of excitement throughout their entire lives are rare (and of course must be cherished). ~ Jacob Wren

Often the idea of survival is mentioned in relation to capitalism, as in the phrase 'economic survival' or the thought 'I need to earn money to survive.' However, in our endeavour we hoped to sever survival from economy, striving for a purer form of modernized surviving. Our fight would be a fight for survival and the fighting itself would be our life, not in the sense of employment but in the sense of a full reality with all of the inherent risk, complexity and completion that living implies. ~ Jacob Wren

Variety of uniformities makes complete beauty. ~ Christopher Wren

Fool that I was, upon my eagle's wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me. ~ John Dryden

Joseph thought he knew the plants that had sought out the twitterers, and those that had risen for the wren, or a fern that turned, not to the sun, but toward the chatter of the chickadee, so quick were the petals of its song, so sharp so plentiful so light, so showy in their symmetry, so suddenly in shade. ~ William H Gass

She is my air. My shelter. Wren is my wings. ~ Natasha Ngan

If Cath had to choose between everyone, she'd choose Wren. ~ Rainbow Rowell

I'm like him," she'd whispered.

"You're not," Wren said.

"I am. I'm crazy like him." She was already having panic attacks. She was already hiding at parties. In seventh grade, she'd been late to class for the first two weeks because she couldn't stand being in the halls with everyone else during passing periods. "It's probably going to get worse in a few years. That's when it usually kicks in."

"You're not," Wren said.

"But what if I am?"

"Decide not to be."

"That's not how it works," Cath argued.

"Nobody knows how it works."

"What if I don't even see it coming."

"I'll see it coming."

Cath tried to stop crying, but she'd been crying so long, the crying had taken over, making her bvreathe in harsh sniffs and jerks.

"If it takes you," Wren said. "I won't let go."

A few months later, Cath gave that line to Simon in a scene about Baz's bloodlust. Wren was still writing with Cath back then, and when she got to the line, she snorted.

"I'm here for you if you go manic," Wren said. "But you're on your own if you become a vampire."

"What good are you anyway," Cath said. Their dad was home by then. And better. And Cath didn't feel, for the moment, like her DNA was a trap ready to snap closed on her.

"Apparently, I'm good for something," Wren said. "You keep stealing all my best lines. ~ Rainbow Rowell

It was a good weekend. Five thousand words of Carry On. Fish tacos with radish and shredded cabbage. Only two more conversations about Wren. And Sunday afternoon brought Levi back, taking her front steps two at a time. ~ Rainbow Rowell

Life up here may be simple but it's not easy, and it's not for everyone. Water runs out; pipes freeze; engines won't start; it's dark for eighteen, nineteen hours a day, for months. Even longer in the far north. Up here it's about having enough food to eat, and enough heat to stay alive through the winter. It's about survival, and enjoying the company of the people that surround us. It's not about whose house is the biggest, or who has the nicest clothes, or the most money. We support each other because we're all in this together.

"And people either like that way of life or they don't; there's no real in-between. People like Wren and Jonah, they find they can't stay away from it for too long. And people like Susan, well . . . they never warm up to it. They fight the challenges instead of embracing them, or at least learning to adapt to them." Agnes pauses, her mouth open as if weighing whether she should continue. "I don't agree with the choices Wren made where you're concerned, but I know it was never a matter of him not caring about you. And if you want to blame people for not trying, there's plenty of it to go around." Agnes turns to smile at me then. "Or you could focus on the here-and-now, and not on what you can't change. ~ K.A. Tucker

I was clearly fascinated by him, but had the strange sense that he was equally fascinated by me. As far as he was concerned I was the devil itself, but the devil always holds a variety of attractions. ~ Jacob Wren

Herein is the explanation of the analogies, which exist in all the arts. They are the re-appearance of one mind, working in many materials to many temporary ends. Raphael paints wisdom, Handel sings it, Phidias carves it, Shakspeare writes it, Wren builds it, Columbus sails it, Luther preaches it, Washington arms it, Watt mechanizes it. Painting was called "silent poetry," and poetry "speaking painting." The laws of each art are convertible into the laws of every other. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Sir Christopher Wren
Said, "I am going to dine with some men.
If anyone calls
Say I am designing St. Paul's. ~ E.C. Bentley

There were ten tongues within one head, and one went out to fetch some bread, to feed the living and the dead." "What does it mean?" "A wren made a nest inside the skull of a gibbeted corpse, flying in and out of the jaw to feed its young. In the midst of death, as it were, life just keeps on happening. ~ Neil Gaiman

The wren-box problem is becoming more acute each year, for wrens now demand better housing conditions and labor-saving devices. ~ Will Cuppy

Wren laughs when I kneel on the floor and try to do a breakdance head-spin. I end up taking down two people before Kayla kicks me in a friendly manner to get me to stop. ~ Sara Wolf

But it didn't break me. Nothing can break me unless I let it. ~ Rainbow Rowell

My maternal grandmother had what might be described in a school report as a 'lively imagination.' She told us that she was a direct descendant of Sir Christopher Wren. ~ Jeremy Hardy

Wren, in her sleeping robe, standing close to a tall wolf demon, her head craned back to face him. The wolf: Moon caste, marbled ash-gray fur flowing silkily over angular features, a diamond-shaped patch of white on his long, muzzlelike jaw. He's dressed in soldier's clothes. One pawed hand is lifted to cup Wren's face, like the beginning of a kiss. ~ Natasha Ngan

People say movies are escapist, just entertainment, but I think that's only an alibi, a way of hiding from ourselves just how effective what we do actually is. When something is in a movie, and especially when something is in a particularly successful film, its language, its grammar, is added into the grammar of possible reality. The banal fact that sharks are terrifying was cemented into our cultural imagination after Jaws. We have no idea how much power we have and absolutely no idea how to use it. It's like we invent people's dreams. ~ Jacob Wren

If we survive all this we'll have some beer and a Firefly-a-thon. ~ Wren Michaels

The wren and the nightingale sound nothing alike, but think how dull the world would be without the songs of both birds.-Miss Kanagawa ~ Kirby Larson

Happily ever after, or even just together ever after, is not cheesy," Wren said. "It's the noblest, like, the most courageous thing two people can shoot for. ~ Rainbow Rowell

Man, Wren. I'm impressed. No woman ever sent flowers to thank me. (Serre) Don't be that impressed. I'm thinking she didn't send flowers to thank him. One flower says thank you. This many says she thought he was dead. Or that she killed him. Hmm ... I'm thinking, put a tiger in her tank and that didn't quit rev her up. What she needs is to go hunting for bear. (Dev) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

I leave her to chemically combust and find Wren in the student council office, filling out extremely interesting paperwork. He's buried behind piles of the stuff. I can barely see tufts of his blonde hair poking out. I reach into the paperwork pile and shove the two halves aside. Hundreds of them fall off the desk and to the floor. Papers drift through the air like snowflakes. Fat, boring-ass snowflakes. Wren looks up, face slack with shock.
"Whatcha doing?" I ask.
"Dividing up funding for the other clubs," He whispers, clearly distraught. A paper plops onto his head and slides off dejectedly. I'm respectful for three seconds.
"So anyway, I had this nightmare in which Jack was sexy and Kayla died. ~ Sara Wolf

I love Wren and he knows it."
"Yeah, but he seems like he wouldn't welcome it."
"Sometimes he doesn't. But it's like Cherise says, the hardest ones to love are always the ones who
need it most."
(Aimee to Fang) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Elliot had always thought that touch was the most intimate way a man and a woman could connect. A kiss. A hand across the base of the neck or a brush of fingertips against the small of the back. But if his thundering heart gave any indication, the moment of honesty Wren had shared in that single look made the air crackle with tension, of the kind he'd never known before. ~ Kristy Cambron

The Deliverator belongs to an elite order, a hallow subcategory. He's got esprit up to here. Right now, he is preparing to carry out his third mission of the night. His uniform is black as activated charcoal, filtering the very light out of the air. A bullet will bounce off its arachnofiber weave like a wren hitting a patio door, but excess perspiration wafts through it like a breeze through a freshly napalmed forest. Where his body has bony extremities, the suit has sintered armorgel: feels like gritty jello, protects like a stack of telephone books. ~ Neal Stephenson

Don't expect me to tell you apart," Reagan said when this became a routine.
"I have short hair," Wren said. "and she wears glasses."
"Stop," Reagan groaned, "don't make me look at you. It's like The Shining in here. ~ Rainbow Rowell

Anna Wren was not for him. She was of a different class than he, and, moreover, she was a respectable widow from the village. She wasn't a sophisticated society lady who might consider a liaison outside of wedlock. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Si monumentum requiris circumspice
(If you seek his monument, look around.)
[Epitaph on Wren's tomb in St. Paul's Cathedral] ~ Christopher Wren

The question haunted me, and the real answer came, as answers often do, not in the canyon but at an unlikely time and in an unexpected place, flying over the canyon at thirty thousand feet on my way to be a grandmother. My mind on other things, intending only to glance out, the exquisite smallness and delicacy of the river took me completely by surprise. In the hazy light of early morning, the canyon lay shrouded, the river flecked with glints of silver, reduced to a thin line of memory, blurred by a sudden realization that clouded my vision. The astonishing sense of connection with that river and canyon caught me completely unaware, and in a breath I understood the intense, protective loyalty so many people feel for the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon. It has to do with truth and beauty and love of this earth, the artifacts of a lifetime and the descant of a canyon wren at dawn. ~ Ann Zwinger

When the Great Fire of London destroyed most of the medieval city in 1666, Christopher Wren was invited to design a new one. Within days, he had drawn up an elegant grid of broad boulevards leading to majestic squares, but it came to nothing - the existing landowners wanted things as they had been. ~ Norman Foster

With the loss of acute illnesses we have seen a loss of human potential and a dramatic increase in chronic 'incurable' diseases. If we want to return to health, we have to look at disease in a way that is different from the accepted medical models, because these models do not work. There has been no overall improvement in the mortality rates for most forms of cancer in the past 100 years, yet still people put their faith in drugs, surgery and radiation. Terminal patients are often offered 'new drugs' in the hope of prolonging life but are in fact being treated as little more than guinea pigs. All disease is curable, but the cure can only be found within the body. ~ Barbara Wren

I'm talking about an intense, private bonding between a dominant personality and a submissive one. Between two people who have chosen to make a loving gift to one another of themselves...not just of their bodies, but of the parts of themselves that they hold back from the rest of the world. The control dynamic in a relationship like that may look uneven, but the power is really quite...balanced ~ Indigo Wren

I love you, Wren," he said, voice strong and smooth as the river. "For everything that you are and everything that you aren't. ~ Kandi Steiner

Only for a minute. I'll be right back." He plopped the baby in her lap and hopped to his feet. Wren held her at arm's length and frowned. She did not appreciate that, because she immediately began wailing.
"Here," Wren said, thrusting her in my direction. "Take the mutant baby. ~ Amy Tintera

As he walked along, consciously enjoying the early coolness of the morning, he turned and looked behind him. People often do this and are usually surprised to find that there is some reason for turning around. Sometimes there is no apparent reason and they wonder why they did it. ("Ordeal By Water") ~ P.C. Wren

He raised his gloved hands skyward, still smiling. He was a hard man to insult, because I'd been trying. He had this sort of cheerful goodwill that seemed to deflect everything. Never trust people who smile constantly. They're either selling something or not very bright. Wren didn't strike me as stupid. Insult ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

Cath exhaled. Then inhaled. Her chest was so tight, it hurt both ways. Levi shouldn't get to make her feel this way - he shouldn't even have access to her chest. ~ Rainbow Rowell

As soon as the door closed, Levi popped his eyes again. Bluely. "That's your twin sister?"
"Identical," Reagan said, like she had a mouth full of hair.
Cath nodded and sat down at her desk.
"Wow." Levi scooted down the bed so he was sitting across from her.
"I'm not sure what you're getting at," Cath said, "but I think it's offensive."
"How can the fact that your identical twin sister is super hot be offensive to you?"
"Because," Cath said, still too encouraged by Wren and, weirdly, by Abel, and maybe even by Nick to let this get to her right now. "It makes me feel like the Ugly One."
"You're not the ugly one." Levi grinned. "You're just the Clark Kent."
Cath started checking her e-mail.
"Hey, Cath," Levi said, kicking her chair. She could hear the teasing in his voice. "Will you warn me when you take off your glasses? ~ Rainbow Rowell

If I may bend your ear for a moment, I like Terry Pratchett. I like footnotes. I like footnotes even when they are not as entertaining as a Pratchett footnote, even when they are in the middle of a book on evolutionary biology and briefly explain the Red Queen hypothesis or the fate of the Stephen's Island Wren or how many bunnies can dance on the back of Australia. Footnotes fill me with a very mild glee. The endnote simply does not compare. ~ Ursula Vernon

Call for the robin-red-breast and the wren,
Since o'er shady groves they hover,
And with leaves and flow'rs do cover
The friendless bodies of unburied men.
Call unto his funeral dole
The ant, the field-mouse and the mole,
To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm,
And (when gay tombs are robbed) sustain no harm,
But keep the wolf far thence, that's foe to men,
For with his nails he'll dig them up again.
Let holy Church receive him duly,
Since he paid the church-tithes truly. ~ John Webster

Glory, glory, said the Bee, Hallelujah, said the Flea. Praise the Lord, remarked the Wren. At springtime all is born-again. ~ Eric Metaxas

The crow signs as sweetly as the lark when no one's paying attention to them, and I think that if the nightingale sang during the day while all the geese were cackling, people would think it sounded no better than a wren. So many things are made perfect and as they should be by good timing! But quiet. Look how the moon won't be awakened. It must be sleeping with [Endymion ~ William Shakespeare

The first time she saw Wren that week, at lunch with Courtney, all Cath could think was, So this is what you look like when you're keeping a giant secret from me - exactly the same as usual.

Cath wondered if Wren was ever planning to talk to her about … what their dad had brought up. She wondered how many other important things Wren wasn't telling her. And when had this started? When had Wren started filtering what she told Cath?

I can do that, too, Cath thought, I can keep secrets. But Cath didn't have any secrets, and she didn't want to keep anything from Wren. Not when it felt so good, so easy, to know that when she was with Wren, she didn't have to worry about a filter. ~ Rainbow Rowell

I was sent to a school with bosses for teachers- no Twain, only cane; check your dick you harry, no Dickens either, No Tom Sawyers no David Copperfields only Webster, master it for grammar, the Wren with a dash of Martini-Drink deep. ~ Aporva Kala

But no, I'm sorry. I can't end there. I haven't yet said everything I want to say. A little girl is at school, out in the playground with her friends, and she sees a flower and says to her friends, just thinking out loud, wondering gently to herself: Do you think flowers have feelings? And for the rest of the day her friends tease her relentlessly, with every new opportunity that arises. Do flowers have feelings, that's so stupid. Right, flowers have feelings. All day and for the rest of the week: stupid flowers have stupid feelings and that little girl feels she is never going to say anything like that ever again. She has already learned that when you open your heart or express genuine, innocent curiosity or wonder about the world, your friends will pounce on the opportunity and use it to hurt you as viciously as possible and there is nothing anyone can do to protect her. It's simple stories like that that really break my heart. ~ Jacob Wren

And neither do I, asshole. (Wren)
Wow. Multiple syllables and a whole sentence from the tiger. Who'd have ever thought it? Whoever she was, she must have had a lot of talent to make you speak. Next thing you know, she'll have the dead walking. Quick, call a Dark-Hunter. I'm sure some of them would like another resurrection. (Dev) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

There is pleasure in reading a version of myself I know in my heart could never exist, since mine is not an iron mind coldly calculating every possible option and outcome. Instead I am a businessman who loves excitement, loves tension, loves risk and the unexpected, and just happens to possess an extraordinary, on occasion even miraculous, degree of good luck. ~ Jacob Wren

My father used to say that it's not enough to just beat an attacker off. You have to hurt them enough that they'll know not to tangle with you anymore. Or preferably kill them. (Wren) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Curse my clumsy tongue," Wren said, raising a glass in a mocking salute.

Nicholas raised his own. "Thankfully, you have a sparkling imagination to make up for it. ~ Alexandra Bracken

The ocean, the desert, and the jungle are the last strongholds and resorts of peace. ("Fear") ~ P.C. Wren

Sometimes I fly like an eagle but with the wings of a wren ~ Anne Sexton

I know you all have families who love you so if you want to leave–. (Acheron)
We wouldn't be here if we didn't want to. You and Val fought to save my sister when no one else would have bothered. I haven't forgotten it. (Vane)
And I haven't forgotten what the Dark-Hunters did for me and Maggie. (Wren)
Yeah, we're family. Psychotic, bizarre and a hodgepodge of personalities that should probably never be blended, but here we are. Now let's go kick some ass. (Fury) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

We have a new goal now, Wren. One we can share the burden of together. ~ Natasha Ngan

Every game has its Jacks,' she said, the sadness of it pulling down the elation of sudden understanding. 'The thing that acts as a wild card. It can't be counted on or predicted. A weapon, even. But he's in other places, too, isn't he? And do you know what else a Jack is, Puck? ... I do. ~ Ruth Frances Long

Wren's voice dropped. "She feels terrible about it, Cath."
"Good!" Cath shouted. "So do I!" She took a step closer to her sister. "I'm
probably going to be crazy for the rest of my life, thanks to her. I'm going to
keep making fucked-up decisions and doing weird things that I don't even
realize are weird. People are going to feel sorry for me, and I won't ever have
any normal relationships - and it's always going to be because I didn't have a
mother. Always. That's the ultimate kind of broken. The kind of damage you never recover from. I hope she feels terrible. I hope she never forgives herself."
"Don't say that." Wren's face was red, and there were tears in her eyes.
"I'm not broken."
There weren't any tears in Cath's eyes. "Cracks in your foundation." She
shrugged.
"Fuck that."
"Do you think I absorbed all the impact? That when Mom left, it hit my
side of the car? Fuck that, Wren. She left you, too."
"But it didn't break me. Nothing can break me unless I let it."
"Do you think Dad let it? Do you think he chose to fall apart when she
left?"
"Yes!" Wren was shouting now. "And I think he keeps choosing. I think
you both do. You'd rather be broken than move on."
"Dad's sick, Wren," she said as calmly as she could manage.
"And your omelette's burnt. And I'd rather be broken than wasted." She set
the plate on the counter. "You can tell Laura to go fuck herself. Like, to infin ~ Rainbow Rowell

Fuck Wren. No ... Damn her. Never mind her. All Wren did lately was complicate Cath's world. ~ Rainbow Rowell

The work of PME-ART is highly collaborative and is also very much about collaboration, about people working together, trying to negotiate what is meaningful to them, where and how they disagree, and how such agreements and disagreements might be evocatively conveyed. Collaboration is definitely not easy. As a teenager in Toronto I would see many one-person shows and think the reason there is only one person onstage has little to do with art and much to do with economics. I would see many shows where the people onstage felt like employees primarily doing what they had been told. Instead I wanted to see people onstage doing what they wanted to do, and felt that this wanting should include active, alive ways of working together.

However, looking back over the past twenty years, I also have to admit that I'm not completely sure collaboration is the place for me. It seems I am temperamentally ill-suited for it. Twenty years of doing something I'm ill-suited for and justifying it to myself through compelling artistic results. (This book is in many ways the story of this struggle.) Because though collaboration has never felt good, I still believe in it. Perhaps I believe in it even more because I find it so difficult. Perhaps I believe in it too much. We are all here on this planet, in our various societies and communities, and like it or not we must find ways to work together. The fact that it is often not easy makes it all that much more necessary.

I sometime ~ Jacob Wren

Even now, she cannot stop searching for a way out of her skin and into a life that fits all her fire. ~ Morgan Nikola-Wren

Want to dance?" He scooped me into his arms before I could reply. "We have music this time. And I don't have to punch you when we finish."
"You don't have to. But if I step on your feet too many times you can feel free. ~ Amy Tintera

Where are we going?" she asked.

"Mr. Durbin's sheep have begun to lamb, and I wanted to see how the ewes are doing." He cleared his throat. "I suppose I should have told you about today's outing earlier."

Anna kept her eyes straight ahead and made a noncommittal sound.

He coughed. "I might've, had you not left so precipitously yesterday afternoon."

She arched a brow but did not reply.

There was a lengthy lull broken only by the dog's eager yelp as he flushed a rabbit from the hedge along the lane.

Then the earl tried again. "I've heard some people say my temper is rather . . ." He paused, apparently searching for a word.

Anna helped him. "Savage?"

He squinted at her.

"Ferocious?"

He frowned and opened his mouth.

She was quicker. "Barbaric?"

He cut her off before she could add to her list. "Yes, well, let us simply say that it intimidates some people." He hesitated. "I wouldn't want to intimidate you, Mrs. Wren."

"You don't. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Brevity takes time. ~ William Wren

If I'm the enemy then really let me have it. If moral outrage about the state of the world is consuming your life, paralyzing you, taking over your world, then set fire to the reader in an act of revenge. Instead you leave the reader, or this reader at least, indifferent, watching your ineffective life unravel ineffectually. If our wealth is criminal then let's live with the criminal joy of pirates or fight to the death to bring a sliver more of justice into being. Not the passive slither forward you are attempting to pass off as literature. ~ Jacob Wren

Why are you reading that?" Wren had asked when she noticed.
"What?"
"Something without a dragon or an elf on the cover."
"I'm branching out. ~ Rainbow Rowell

I wasn't usually one to toot my own horn, which could also explain the no-boyfriend-status of my life. If bright plumage was the key, I was closer to being a brown wren. ~ Rachel Hawthorne

It seemed to Wren that having a mother had a lot less to do with a few sweaty hours of labor and delivery, and a lot more to do with whose face you always looked for in a crowd. ~ Jodi Picoult

Neither need we fear to diminish a miracle by explaining it. ~ Christopher Wren

Architecture has its political Use; publick Buildings being the Ornament of a Country; it establishes a Nation, draws People and Commerce; makes the People love their native Country, which Passion is the Original of all great Actions in a Common-wealth ... Architecture aims at Eternity. ~ Christopher Wren