Please, Katsa," he finally said. "At least talk to me". She swung around to face him. "What it there to talk about? You know how I feel, and what I think about it." "And what I feel? Doesn't it matter?
I don’t often know who should read what book. It’s a little bit like trying to set people up on a date - a good match is unpredictable and mysterious.
Spelling bees? Spelling bees do not scare me. I competed in the National Spelling Bee twice, thank you very much. My dad competed in the National Spelling Bee. My aunt competed in the National Spelling Bee. My uncle WON the National Spelling Bee. If I can't spell it, I know someone who can. So just bring it on.
It's only water," she said. "Tell that to a drowning man," Giddon said.
Your brothers are the foolish ones for not seeing the strength in beautiful things.
If I'd been trying to kill him, he'd be dead.
If he touches you, I'll come in and choke him to death.
Katsa hugged her for a long time, and Bitterblue understood that this was always how it would be. Katsa would come and then Katsa would go. But the hug was real, and lasting, even though it would end. The coming was as real as the going, and the coming would always be a promise. It would have to be good enough.
How acutely sometimes the presence or absence of people mattered
I must stop wishing for things to happen. Because something will happen eventually, and when it does, I'll be bound to wish it hadn't.
Now we just need to find someone who is close to the king but is really a spy for Mydogg." "That should be easy. I could probably shoot an arrow out the window and hit one.
Living is too hard right now. Dying is easy. Let me die.
If she was suggesting she was too wise with the weight of her experience to fall prey to infatuation - well, the disproof was sitting before her in the form of a gray-eyed prince with a thoughtful set to his mouth that she found quite distracting.
And of course she understood now why her body wanted to run whenever he appeared. It was a correct instinct, for there was nothing to be got from this but sadness.
My life is an apology for the life of my father.
Katsa and Po were trying to drown each other and, judging from their hoots of laughter, enjoying it immensely.
Your face will freeze like that, you know, Kat," Raffin said helpfully to Katsa. "Maybe I should rearrange your face, Raff," said Katsa. "I should like smaller ears," Raffin offered. "Prince Raffin has nice, handsome ears," Helda said, not looking up from her knitting. "As will his children. Your children will have no ears at all, My Lady," she said sternly to Katsa. Katsa stared back at her, flabbergasted. "I believe it's more that her ears won't have children," began Raffin, "which, you'll agree, sounds much less—
For a group of people who claimed to be concerned for her safety, they did seem to have developed rather a habit of encouraging uprisings against monarchs.
I've liked you better when Katsa's around," Giddon said. "She's so rotten to me that you seem positively pleasant in contrast.
That's interesting," Bitterblue said. "You think a conscience requires fear?
Why does everybody throw every troublesome thing into the river?
You're afraid of your own anger.
Lady Queen," he said, "You've given me all I want. You're the queen a librarian dreams of.
The fellow who tends the greenhouse gardens? Trust me, Lady, you'd let him stake your tomatoes.
It humbles me, but it doesn't humiliate me.
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