People don’t pay much attention to anything unless you give them reason to
I do not like sitting idly by when something clearly isn't right. I feel... not trapped but something like it, and I don't know what to about.
You prefer not to see the gears of the clock, as to better tell time.
Natural talent is a questionable phenomenon. Inclination perhaps, but innate ability is extremely rare.
He reads histories and mythologies and fairy tales, wondering why it seems that only girls are ever swept away from their mundane lives on farms by knights or princes or wolves. It strikes him as unfair to not have the same fanciful opportunity himself. And he is not in the position to do any rescuing of his own.
Her father picks different names for her as they change locales, but he uses Miranda often, presumably because he knows how much it annoys her.
People are naive about such things, and they would rather write them off as evil than attempt to understand them. An unfortunate truth, but a truth nonetheless.
The sensation reminds him of the first snow of winter, for those first few hours when everything is blanketed in white, soft and quiet.
So it’s really best to keep your secrets when you have them, for their own good, as well as yours.
Old stories have a habit of being told and retold and changed. Each subsequent storyteller puts his or her mark upon it. Whatever truth the story once had is buried in bias and embellishment. The reasons do not matter as much as the story itself.
So proper for a circus girl," Mme. Padva says with with a gleam in her eye. "We shall have to loosen those corset laces if we intend to keep you an intimate dinner company." "I expected the corset unlacing would take place after dinner," Celia says mildly, earning a chorus of laughter. "We shall keep Miss Bowen as intimate company regardless of the state of her corset," Chandresh says. "Make a note of that," he adds, waving a hand at Marco. "Miss Bowen's corset is duly noted, sir," Marco replies, and the laghter bubbles over the table again.
It is difficult to see a situation for what it is when you are in the midst of it,” Tsukiko says. “It is too familiar. Too comfortable.
Sometimes I write what I can't paint, and I paint what I can't write. I use a different part of the brain.
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