Quotes from Nicola Griffith

Gwladus was right. The tremble turned her from madwoman to frightened maid.

She heard the secret, perhaps a secret no one wholly mortal should hear.

She was beginning to see patterns, learning how to think.

She could never be certain of the queen's feelings, but perhaps on this they were of the same mind.

Beside her, Edwin stirred. Rædwald the overking was dead and under the dirt. Now Edwin was overking. Hild could feel him swelling like bread.

And when she, too, goes back to her mother, cheeks blooming fresh with wild roaming, her mother weeps and begs her to stay close, stay safe-for the girl is hers, her gift, her treasure, her payment, all she has-but the girl feels her growing strength; she must run, she must climb, she must test her power.

Play with it. Play with the scary thing. But play hard, play clearly, and play a lot.

Your mother has built you a place where you can speak your word openly. Now she asks you to use that for her, and for yourself of course.

It was good to feel the living movement between two bodies, to feel the feedback, play with some of the strength.

When you understood what made people happy, you understood them.

I learnt that pain is only a message. You can choose to ignore the message. Your body can do a great deal more than it wants you to know.

I missed you showing me things, making them magic. So I decided to find them myself. Like this.

She had dreamt of eagles, she said, like to the eagles of Gwynedd, nesting over Lindum, with one eagle pushing its brother from the nest.

She breathed deep. She was Anglisc. She would not burn. She would endure and hold true to her oath. An oath, a bond, a boast. A truth, a guide, a promise. To three gods in one. To the pattern. For even gods were part of the pattern, even three-part gods. The pattern was everything. Of everything. Over everything.

They are noisy; their untidy feet snap twigs and kick stones without heed for what might hear.

Get creative. I could find out which hospital bed Kars was in. To make sure he wouldn't wake up.

Balance isn't about never going down, it's about free movement, self-determined movement.

Hild unpinned her sleeves to show arms tan and tight as a stripling's wore a light cloak in royal blue flung back from her shoulder gesith-style, and tucked her hair behind her ears, to remind them of fighting man with greased-back hair

Gwaldus tugged at her collar again. She looked nothing like Hereswith. She was at least two years older, half a hand shorter. Her eyes were grey-green, and her hair would be paler when washed. Her whole body would be paler. Her nipples were more pink than red.

It's about letting go. It might sound crazy, but it's a kind of acceptance. A being right there and a not being there.

Lying naked and cold beneath the perfect, whispering dark, I imagined I could feel the curve of the earth under my back, that I circled the whole planet so that my soles touched the top of my head and I blended with the dirt.

Death is not something I like to play guessing games with.

Here, now, they were building a great pattern, she could feel it, and she would trace its shape one day: that was her wyrd, and fate goes on as it must. Today she was swearing to it, swearing here, with her people.

She'd be best off here with the princess with the slaughter seax.