The Enchanted Greenhouse Quotes

If you’re hurt, you’re hurt. It doesn’t matter if anyone else thinks you don’t have a good enough reason. Pain doesn’t require approval.

People were cruel to you, and it didn't make you bitter. What else would you call that?" "Naïve? Needy? Pathetic?" "Strong," he insisted.

Words matter.” The right words could heal shattered glass. And hearts. And families. And lives.

She felt like she fit within his arms, like a book properly shelved.

You risked so much... And you barely know me." "I did what I believed was right," Rijes said. "It's my duty--- in fact, I believe it's every person's duty, especially those in power--- to reject unjust laws. To choose kindness and empathy, whenever we can.

Words matter." The right words could heal shattered glass. And hearts. And families. And lives.

She’d met people like that, always convinced everything was the fault of someone else. They never looked at their own choices.

I suppose I choose to think it will all be okay because then at least, even if I can’t control what happens, I can control how I feel about it.

Yeah, well, what's the point of sailing free, choosing your own horizon, if you won't choose what's right over what's easy?

I’m just too sensitive.” Yarrow grunted. “I don’t know what that means.” “I’m hurt when I shouldn’t be.” “If you’re hurt, you’re hurt. It doesn’t matter if anyone else thinks you don’t have a good enough reason. Pain doesn’t require approval.

You could only have a relationship of any kind, be it family or friends or lovers, if both people were willing to reach toward each other. It wasn't, as some said, hard work in the sense of being unpleasant or tedious or painful--- that was a myth perpetuated by people with a vested interest in telling you to stay in a terrible relationship--- but it did require effort. You had to try.

I'm not going to risk you for the dream of a dead sorcerer." "But you love the greenhouse." "I love you more," he said.

He shrugged. “It’s just bread. Glad you like it.” It wasn’t just bread. It was the fact that he’d thought of her while he baked it

Terlu flipped to the end to find a brief note about the authors: Kiela and Caz were the co-owners of a jam shop on the island of Caltrey. Kiela was formerly a librarian at the Great Library of Alyssium, where Caz, a sentient talking spider plant, had been her librarian assistant. She thanked her husband, Larran, as well as a list of friends. Caz thanked his partner, Meep. Yarrow wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She realized she was crying. "He's okay," Terlu said. "I did the right thing.

She knelt on the walkway, and the plants bunched around her, each of them calling out their name: the philodendron was Dendy (he), the ivy was Risa (they), the orchid Amina (she), the calla lily Viria (she), the thistle Tirna (they), the fireweed Nif (he), the wax myrtle Ree (he), the prickly pear Hosha (they), the flytrap Sut (he), the morning glory Zyndia (she), the fern Mirr (they)... She committed as many names as possible to memory.

Greenery Juniper, Oracle Oak and Hop Tree, California Buckeye, and Elderberry. Pacific Dogwood and the pale green Eucalyptus, Quaking Aspen and Flannelbush. raw, sprouting, lush green love green with envy green with youth green with early spring olive, emerald, avocado, greenlight ready, set, GO! greenhouse, greenbelts, ocean kelp, cucumber, lizard, lime and forest green, spruce, teal, and putting green. green-eyed, verdant, grassy, immature green and leafy green half-formed tender, pleasant, alluring temperate freshly sawed vigorous not ripe yet promising greenbriar, greenbug, green dragon greenshanks running along the ocean's edge greenlings swimming greenlets singing greengage plums green thumbs greenhorns and greenflies- how on earth amid sage swells kelly hillsides and swirls of firs did I ever find that green of hers? holly, drake, and brewster green, pistachio, shamrock, serpentine terre verde, Brunswick, tourmaline, lotus, jade, and spinach green: start to finish lowlands to highs no field, no forest, no leaf, no blade can catch the light or trap the shade; no earthly tones will ever rise to match the green enchantment of her eyes.

It's a new spellbook that's circulating, written for ordinary people. Supposed to have a lot to do with plants and gardens and such, and since, you know, the whole greenhouse thing... I thought it could be useful. Found it in an adorable jam shop, and I couldn't say no." "The laws have changed that much?" Terlu gawked at the book. It was titled simply Spells from Caltrey. She wasn't sure where Caltrey was--- it wasn't an island name that she recognized. "Yep," Marin said. This was proof, here in her hands. A spellbook for an ordinary person. "Brand-new world out there. A second chance for a whole lot of people, not just you.

She was certain she looked more like a chipmunk than a criminal, if chipmunks were lavender and gray. Her mother had purple skin, while her father was tinted more pink, and Terlu had ended up an agreeable shade of lavender, which matched nicely with the gray cotton.

She'd grown up on a sun-drenched island called Eano, where you were in far more danger of sunburn than frostbite. She used to walk barefoot through the sand and feel it tickle her toes on her way to her cousins' house, and she'd swim every sunset in the sun-warmed water before her parents called her in for dinner. At the height of summer, you could cook mussels and clams by leaving them out on the rocks, and you had to drink fruit juice to stay hydrated or you'd risk the wrath of the cluster of grandfathers who'd hand out pitchers of guava and watery sweet-berry juice at every street corner. Remembering, Terlu could almost taste the hint of sweet-berry. It was the flavor of the summer solstice, when the whole island would be decked out in flowers and smell like chocolate and cinnamon and citrus as every baker and aspiring baker would compete to create the most delectable pastries for the Summer Feast...

Terlu remembered she’d looked beyond the horizon and dreamed of what life would be like out there. So many possibilities! She hadn’t understood that you couldn’t have everything, and every door you walked through meant other doors you closed. There was a cost to leaving, and she’d paid without a second’s thought, with no guarantee of what she’d find out in the world beyond. She’d thought it would be easy to find her place.

Even though he hadn’t known her, hadn’t mean to save her, had only meant to help his greenhouse, he had changed her life. He’d given her a second chance.

People were cruel to you, and it didn’t make you bitter. What else would you call that?” “Naïve? Needy? Pathetic?” “Strong.

It was a room full of roses. Everywhere she looked, roses climbed out of pots and over trellises, up the windows and into the cupola, every shade imaginable: pink, yellow, white, champagne, sky blue, purple, fuchsia, coral, dusty pink, salmon pink, deep red, an even deeper red so dark it was almost black...

At the Great Library of Alyssum, all the librarians' meals were prepared by unseen cooks in a kitchen on a level devoid of books. Several of their cooks were high-caliber chefs, with a pedigree that included many noble houses and often even the imperial palace. They were expected to provide meals for the sorcerers who consulted the library, and so for that reason, they often turned out perfectly roasted meats, delicately spiced pastries, and mouthwatering desserts with custards that looked like they were made of molten gold. Terlu had often ordered just desserts for her meals, especially near the end, when she felt she needed more and more comfort food. Once, she'd gotten an exquisite puff pastry swan, a leftover from an imperial party that had been held in one of the grander rooms of the library. Her fondness for sweets was part of why a lover had once described her as "pleasantly huggable," a description she was perfectly fine with if it meant she'd gotten to eat pastry swans. She'd also had some amazing meals on her home island of Eano: a coconut curry made by one of her aunts that had been known to reduce grown mean and women to tears, a duck roasted over a fire pit after marinating in a special secret sauce, and dragonfruit jelly on a hot, buttery donut... But Terlu thought she had never tasted anything as good as this soup. Did he make this? It had herbs she had no name for, but they made her feel as if she were being hugged. It was warm and nutty, and the vegetables--- which she also couldn't identify--- were sometimes sweet and sometimes tart and always perfect. The broth warmed her throat, straight down to her stomach, and she felt its warmth spread to the rest of her.

Yarrow took her hands. "I wouldn't let them take you." "You couldn't stop them." "Then we'd be statues together." He'd moved closer, only inches away. "They'd have to make a double pedestal for the both of us, because I won't let go.

He also looked very handsome, even though there was a smear of dirt on his gold-hued cheek that she very much wanted to wipe off. She resisted the urge, though, since he was looking at her with so much confusion and alarm in his face that she thought he might flee if she tried. She knew what he was seeing when he looked at her: a short, plump, pastel-colored woman who was pretty in the same kind of harmless way that bunnies are pretty.

He also looked remarkably handsome, even more handsome the longer she looked at him. He had gorgeous gold-and-black hair--- jet-black streaked with gold that matched the golden sheen of his skin---- and eyes that were as green as the cat's wings. He hadn't shaved recently, and his speckled-gold almost-beard looked soft enough to pet.

You take care of every plant and every bird, every living thing on this island," Terlu said. "Who takes care of you?

People were cruel to you, and it didn’t make you bitter. What else would you call that?” “Naïve? Needy? Pathetic?” “Strong,” he insisted.

Emperor Mevorin liked to insist every action taken by the empire was for the good of its people, but far too many of its actions throughout history had been for the good of the empire, which was not—regardless of what the emperor espoused—the same thing. An empire, unchecked, was a selfish beast of insatiable hunger.

Behind her, Rijes let out a small gasp as she beheld the bookshelves—it was the sound of a woman who didn’t expect to find happiness but discovered it anyway.

When Terlu had woken alone in the cold snow, she hadn't expected to be a part of a full-out Winter Feast celebration the very same season. She hadn't expected any of what had happened. She supposed that was why today mattered so much to her: it was a day to celebrate the improbable light that now burned in the implacable darkness.

Everyone who could cook had cooked: Carrots that tasted like candy. Asparagus coated in a creamy yellow sauce. Potatoes prepared six different ways--- fried, roasted, baked, twice-baked, and cooked with cheese and with cream. Fish flavored with herbs that Terlu couldn't even name but tasted beyond delicious. A few dishes weren't her favorite, like the mussels in butter that Yarrow loved but reminded Terlu too much of slugs, but she loved the dish with squash cut into noodles mixed in a nut-flavored sauce, as well as a sweet carrot bread made by one of the uncles. And Yarrow had prepared her favorite, the layered zucchini, squash, and tomato dish he'd perfected. They ate, they talked, they laughed, they sang, they told stories, and they danced. Above the greenhouse, snow fell lightly as the shortest day of the year dipped toward nightfall. When desserts were brought out, everyone oohed and ahhed. Yarrow's sugar glass with flavored roses was proclaimed the star, but there were also berry pies (Terlu contributed a blueberry pie) and cakes and cobblers and an amazing peach tart (Yarrow's grandfather's recipe). And of course, chocolate-covered oranges.

I was so willing to give up, and all along, the answer was under our feet. I'm sorry. I thought... I thought a lot of things that were wrong, but I should never have given up on our home--- or on you." That was a real apology. Looking at Yarrow, Terlu could tell that he heard it too. Unlike Birch's earlier attempts, this one sounded like it came from the heart--- that he both wanted to fix things and understood why they'd broken.

They were chocolate-covered orange slices, each slice perfect and plump as a jewel, with smooth-as-silk chocolate encasing half of them. She felt a lump in her throat. She hadn't known he'd been listening when she talked about oranges weeks ago. He'd barely liked her then. In fact, she was certain he hadn't. All of a sudden, it felt like her family was here with her, even though they hadn't yet written back to the letter she'd sent--- it had been picked up by a passing sailor weeks ago, but no boat had returned with a response. Still, here was a bit of home. Terlu blinked quickly. "You don't like them?" he said, concerned. "I know you said you remembered candied oranges from your Winter Feast, but then I thought with your story about the orange tree..." "It's perfect," she said. "You're perfect.

She held the letters to her chest as if she could absorb them straight into her heart. She'd lost six years as a statue, but she wouldn't lose any more. Her family still cared. They weren't angry, and they missed her. Maybe they didn't fully understand, but they cared. If they came to visit... When they came to visit, she corrected herself, she'd try to explain. She'd left Eano to find a place where she had a purpose. It had just taken her longer than she'd thought it would to find it. It would be all right. I have a niece. And her father knew she'd find happiness.

She'd never imagined any of this--- this island, the greenhouses, the purpose she'd found in translating the late sorcerer's spells, the new community they were building, the plants and the dragons, the winged cat, and Yarrow. All of it. She hadn't even known this life was out there to dream about. Now, though, it was the life she wanted. "I'm home," Terlu told him. Drawing her closer, he kissed her, and she kissed him back. Above them, the snow fell gently on the greenhouse, while inside and all around them, the flowers bloomed.

Yarrow took her hands. "I wouldn't let them take you." "You couldn't stop them." "Then we'd be statues together." He'd moved closer, only inches away. "They'd have to make a double pedestal for both of us, because I won't let go.

Terlu tried to imagine what kind of chaos there had been in the Great Library... Somehow in the midst of the bedlam, Rijes Velk had stopped to think of a lowly librarian who'd broken the law and acted to save her. It was an extraordinary gift. How can I ever repay that?

Sitting, she dipped a bite of the honey cake in the jam and popped it into her mouth--- sweet and airy with a tartness from the lemon-raspberry jam. She almost let out a little moan. It made her feel as if she'd been dipped in sugar. She had sugar for blood and raspberry for breath.

You’re more important than any greenhouse,

It was like drinking a sunset, where the sun had stained the clouds the deepest, richest rose. Molten sunshine was dripping down her throat.

if you were going to do a thing to someone, there should be a verb for it, and if there wasn’t, you should reconsider doing it at all.

You didn't just remove a full-size human statue from the library without anyone noticing, especially from as prominent and well-guarded a site as the North Reading Room. She couldn't imagine how the head librarian had managed it. She hoped Rijes hadn't endangered herself in the process. But regardless of how... It seemed clear to her that regardless of how, these plants were why. It was far too much of a coincidence otherwise. She was guilty of plant magic; suddenly, here she was in an enchanted greenhouse that needed magical help.

Each recipe was from a different island in the Crescent Islands Empire, selected by the librarian in charge of the food history section of the Great Library. There were crab puffs from Dault, stuffed figs from Tirza, marinated beef skewers with pearl onions from Blaye.

What did the Ginians keep in the hearts of their mazes if not gold and jewels?" Terlu, the former Fourth Librarian of the Second Floor, East Wing, smiled at the little rose. "Books, of course, the ultimate treasure. All their stories. And their knowledge.

Summer to her tasted like coconut and pineapple, and it smelled like the lotion that her parents insisted they slather themselves with before they went outside. It tasted like cooked crab and like the sweet candy that stuck to your fingers no matter how hard you sucked them.

She drifted through life, wanting and reaching but never having, always feeling just a little lost and just a little empty and just a little lonely. "I'm just too sensitive." Yarrow grunted. "I don't know what that means." "I'm hurt when I shouldn't be." "If you're hurt, you're hurt. It doesn't matter if anyone else thinks you don't have a good enough reason. Pain doesn't require approval.

False moonlight bathed the greenhouse in a pale blue light. At the peak of the cupola, an imitation moon was cradled in a web of glittering strands. Swirls of sparkling cloud drifted through on a breath of impossible wind. The flowers were a deep blue, black, and gray--- the colors of a garden at night. Even their leaves were a dark gray. Starlike sparkles drifted up from the blossoms, as if the flowers were breathing out stardust. It smelled like jasmine.

Dear Family, she wrote. She paused again. "Tell them you're well," Yarrow advised. She wrote that. And then once those first words were there, she kept writing. She told them about when she first came to Alyssium, full of hope and fear. She told them about the library, how proud she'd been to get the job and how disappointed when it turned out to not be what she'd imagined it would be. She told them about how much she missed home, how much she missed them, and why she hadn't returned--- because she wanted to find a place where she belonged and had purpose, and she knew it wasn't Eano, as much as she loved them. But it wasn't Alyssium either. As it turned out, it was Belde. This place. With this man. She smiled as she wrote about Yarrow and her life here. I found a place I want to be and a future I want to have. I'm happy, and I hope you are too. Please write back. I miss you. Love, Your Terlu

Behind her, Rijes let out a small gasp as she beheld the bookshelves--- it was the sound of a woman who didn't expect to find happiness but discovered it anyway. Terlu knew that sound well. "This is perfect," Rijes proclaimed.

It's going to be fun," Terlu said. He snorted, but then he smiled and held out the half-finished icing rose. "Taste?" "You're supposed to be making them for the feast. I can't---" He popped it in her mouth. It melted and flavor burst from it. She'd expected pure sugar, but what she tasted was strawberries and vanilla--- it was a bite of spring. "Oh! How did you do that?" "Each color rose is going to have a different flavor." "You're brilliant." He blushed. "I'm glad you like it. I'm going to put them all over the sugar glass, to symbolize the cracks that the plants healed." "Sounds beautiful.

She drifted through life, wanting and reading, but never having, always feeling just a little lost and a little empty and just a little lonely. I'm just too sensitive. page 227

Terlu said. “Words matter.” The right words could heal shattered glass. And hearts. And families. And lives.

I did what I believed was right,” Rijes said. “It’s my duty—in fact, I believe it’s every person’s duty, especially those in power—to reject unjust laws. To choose kindness and empathy, whenever we can.

This place didn’t need to be isolated to be safe—Laiken had had it all backward and mixed up. The only way the island would survive—the only way they’d all thrive—was together.

An empire, unchecked, was a selfish beast of insatiable hunger.

Sometimes people are going through things that you can’t see because you’re too busy looking up to them.

I wish I understood why he did it. He was supposed to protect them. They trusted him. They loved him.” “He was afraid to lose them.” “Then he was

Ugh, I feel like I have sugar on my leaves. Quit it with the oversweetness, you two.

Wait, you want me to try again? After this?" "I still trust you." "That's not really logical, given how badly I just failed.

I think he has a great heart,” Terlu said. “He just doesn’t know how to show it to anyone who isn’t full of chlorophyll.

There was nothing better

I missed it, didn't I." "Missed what?" "The moment when I should have kissed you." "It's not possible to miss that.

I'm hurt when I shouldn't be." "If you're hurt, you're hurt. It doesn't matter if anyone else thinks you don't have a good enough reason. Pain doesn't require approval.

If you’re hurt

It’s my duty—in fact