Shannon Hale Quotes

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

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.

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

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

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

Personally, I believe “Young Adult” to be an arbitrary title that means the book "Can be enjoyed by anyone/Has a main character who’s not quite an adult/Isn’t really boring.

I don't know how you persist in being so stubborn-" "It's a superpower. I was bitten by a radioactive mule.

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

You are my butterfly and refuse to set you free.

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

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

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.

When you get tired of worrying and mourning your horse and trying not to be afraid, tell me and I'll do it for you a while so you can shut your eyes and sleep peaceful.

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

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?

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

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

Its important to know stories. I felt the earth shift to make a place for you when you were born, and I came to tell you stories while you are young. And like me, you were born with a word on your tongue.

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 know I would crumble if I lost you.

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

Really, becoming a writer sounds more like a mental illness than a professional choice.

I do like the world quite a lot.

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.

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

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

Truth is when your mind and your gut agree.

I cannot write to anyone outside myself--if I tried, it would be a horrible story, flat and lifeless. I write to myself. That's the only person I'm trying to please.

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.

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

What should I say? That I like him so much it hurts?

What she had long believed was not true, and now the world was wide open to discover what was. It is like all my life I thought the sky was green.

They laughed much harder than the memory was funny because it felt good to laugh.

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.

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

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.

Clearly she was expected to say something, but panic at having to speak stole the thoughts from her head.

My mama used to say, 'Are you sad? Then just wait a minute.

They finished laughing and caught their breaths, and looked at each other, and Ani thought Geric looked at her too long, as though he forgot he was looking, as though he did not wish to do anything else. She looked back. Her heart took its time quieting down.

She was born Anidori-Kiladra Talianna Isilee, Crown Princess of Kildenree, and she did not open her eyes for three days.

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

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a thirty-something woman in possession of a satisfying career and fabulous hairdo must be in want of very little

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.

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

WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE: RAPUNZEL For horse thieving, kidnapping, jail breaking, and using her hair in a manner other than nature intended! REWARD

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.

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

. . . as long as there are movement and harmony, there are words.

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.

It was a pleasure, Enna, Finn, tree rat." "Did she just call you tree rat?

If you were a woman, all I'd have to say is 'Colin Firth in a wet shirt' and you'd say 'Ah.

He did a very good impression of a stone column.

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.

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

But the hoping, that's what really hurts.

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

Nom, do say something funny so she can admire!

Being a writer is a good, good thing.

My friends call me by my name." "You don't have any friends." "I don't want you to be my friend, Selia, or my servant, not now. I thought you were both. You have let me know I was wrong. So are you to treat me so. You are wrong.

It's not something you tell your single best friend. It'd be like rubbing your nose in the poop of my happiness.

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.

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.

And Isi always listened, never told Enna she had been foolish, never said hollow things like 'You'll be all right.' . . . Isi saw Enna's struggle and her sadness, and she understood.

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

Miss Hayes, have you stopped to consider that you might have this all backward? That in fact you are my fantasy?

Ah, now, don't cry over lost years and forgetfulness. The tales tell what they can. The rest is for us to learn..

A little snark, properly directed, can change the world.

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

Figure out what is real for you. No use leaning on someone else's story all your life.

But when she turned her back to the lights, she saw that the night was so dark...She could not see the stars. The world felt as high as the depthless night sky and deeper than she could know. She understood, suddenly and keenly, that she was too small to run away, and she sat on the damp ground and cried.

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

She put a wedge beside my heart And then she brought the mallet down She sang no song to guide her work I lost my heart without a sound

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.

Geric," she called. He turned back around. "What kind of flowers were they?" "I don't rightly know," he said. He made faltering gestures with his hands, forming their size and shape from the air. "They were yellow, and smallish, and had lots of petals." "Thank you," she said. "They were beautiful.

Razo was sorely tempted to assert that all was true and he'd lost his horns and tail in a tragic childhood accident

She answered by standing and kissing him first and held his cheeks and closed her eyes and felt sure as bones and deep as blood that she had found her place.

Poor gosling. It hurts to be lost. And worse to be home with no kind of homecoming...I'll be lucky if I can do as well as you when all this's done, just a bit out of breath, a bit bruised and scratched, a bit wiser and sadder for it all.

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?

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.

Oh, but I like my geese. Like cats, they can't be told what to do, and like dogs, they're loyal, and like people, they talk every chance they get.

My ma says a rock lasts forever, but people don’t, and that’s what makes them more precious.

What are you doing?" "Ya!" said Jane, whirling around, her hands held up menacingly. It was Mr. Nobley with coat, hat, and cane, watching her with wide eyes. Jane took several quick (but oh so casual) steps away from Martin's window. "Um, did I just say, 'Ya'?" "You just said 'Ya,'" he confirmed. "If I am not mistaken, it was a battle cry, warning that you were about to attack me. I, uh..." She stopped to laugh. "I wasn't aware until this precise and awkward moment that when startled in a startled in a strange place, my instincts would have me pretend to be a ninja.

Wait, I want more green. I hope I did not imply I only wanted your colors. We can't turn a cold shoulder to green, and blue, and purple, for the sake of all ordered things, how can you dismiss purple? Celi, call Nom back and tell him of my need for purple!

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

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.

Go on, son, you're not doing me any good by bleeding.

We know it's all just daydreaming. In all likelihood, no one in this forest'll ever get a javelin, and I'll never see my mother's kingdom again, let alone be hailed by crowds as the jewel of Kildenree. Maybe it's vain to wish for it. But sometimes, it'd be nice just to hold something real in your hands that felt like a measure of your worth. Right Finn?

You've been quiet lately...but it's not so much the quiet as something inside the quiet.

... fantasy is not practice for what is real—fantasy is the opiate of women.

Does anyone smell roasting meat?' said Razo, 'Oh, wait, it's just Geric's face.

Ani felt a stirring, a hope, a winged thing waking up in her chest and brushing her heart with it's feathers.

Hey, times are tough, and thirty gold coins can do a lot of good. But I guess you wouldn't know about needing money, since you grew up like a little princ..." (Rapunzel glares) "Prin... soner. I mean, prisoner! A prisoner in a tower, such a shame, that.

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 hate them," Enna said. "Whoever is responsible for making me sleep outside without pillows, I hate them." Mmm-hmmm...," Dasha said. Rin had noticed that the Tiran girl often had trouble remembering how to speak in the morning. If Finn were here," Enna continued to mumble as she rewrapped her head cloth, "he'd let me rest my head on his chest at night. Or leg. Or arm. And then he'd find whoever was responsible for the whole sleeping outside with no pillows situation and hold him while I kicked him in the shins.

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.

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?

This morning, Tegus welcomed me again with an arm clasp and cheek touch. I wasn't startled this time, and I breathed in at his neck. How can I describe the scent of his skin? He smells something like cinnamon-- brown and dry and sweet and warm. Ancestors, is it wrong for me to imagine laying my head on his chest and closing my eyes and breathing in his smell?

How could you miss it? Just the sound of her voice makes my chest feel tight, my face gets hot and my mouth goes dry whenever she's near. It's getting so bad, all I have to do is see her and I'm already thinking, 'What does she want? What can I do for her?' She's got some power over me, there's no question, and what else could it be? ~Razo

He'd followed Dasha once before and remembered which door was hers. He knocked, peered inside, then jumped in and shut the door, quiet as brushing two feathers together. He smiled at his own stealth, then swaggered right into a chair, banging it against the wall. You oaf. He cut short his swagger and begin to move with exaggerated sneakiness. There was a certain pleasure in that, too.

Dasha!' Rin yelled, 'Dasha!' A face looked up, then two. They started walking toward her, then running. Dasha was in front, her eyes set on Razo, her face caught in an expression of desperate hope. 'Razo,' she said, .... 'Razo, it had better be you. If it just looks like you, I am going to kill you. It had better-' He'd reached her by then. They embraced, and he swung her around, her legs lifting in the air, her tunic swirling...Then Dasha was kissing Razo's face and crying and smiling and declaring all his perfections. 'Well, this isn't half-bad,' said Razo, 'I think I'll die more often.' Dasha embraced him again and squeezed until Razo had to admit he was injured. 'Love the lips, not the ribs,' he said, and pulled her into a long kiss.