(A)ny time you buy weapons, or build an army, you begin to look for an excuse to use them. Plus, you pose more of a threat to others.
I have to think it's possible to suffer a great wrong and walk away from it. To build a life of small, exquisitely important moments.
You do not respond to an attempt on your life with a slap on the hand. Or a joke.
The bluejacket girlie rode like a clan warrior, but there was no way she'd escape. It was a private life-and-death contest that had nothing to do with him. He told himself he should ride on, grateful that the chase would keep them occupied while he took a different path. But what had he told Rebecca when she'd asked what he meant to do when he returned to the Fells? 'I'm tired of people in power picking on the weak. I'm going to help them.
I like rough edges. That's what makes a person real.
For Hanalea the Warrior!
Just because you're the enemy of my enemy don't mean you're my friend, Han thought.
The only way to get what you want is to make them more afraid of you than they are of each other.
Haven't you heard about me?" he said, with a tight smile. "I'm really a very dangerous person." And he did look dangerous until he said, "Look, could you watch Dog for me while I'm gone? I can't take him where I'm going.
You look like a boy who has eaten the fruit of the tree of knowledge and doesn't like the taste.
And they always slept better with blades beneath their beds.
Leicester stared fixedly at the image before him, the color bleached from his face by its brilliance. Seph sensed the headmaster's mind questing out, trying to discover and destroy the wizard behind the image, but finding nothing, no trail of magic, no stone, no flesh and blood to focus on. Jason Haley, the puppeteer, was safely ensconced in the gallery above.
That's what happens when you love someone... you notice and notice and notice.
Tears stung her eyes. She sank her knees next to the sleeping bench and gently raked strands of golden hair from him forehead. "Don't you die. don't you dare. I forbid it." As if Han Alister had ever listened to anything she said.
Crow paced back and forth, his form flickering like flame. "It's been a thousand years, Alister. I never intended for anyone to find it, so it's very well protected. One little misstep, and you and my line will be history." "Since when are you so concerned about your line?" Han said. Crow stared at him for a long moment. "Since I found out I had one.
If you want to be a writer, you must be in love with the process of writing, whether you achieve financial success or not.
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