Quotes from Nicola Griffith

To your cabin," Tammy said. "May you have many dinners in front of this fire, with people you care for.

Her skin felt marvellously alive beneath mine. We moved back and forth, and my belly warmed, and I knew hers warmed, too, as we revolved around the gym and each other, a planet and each other, a planet and its satellite turning about the sun.

Gwladus wanted to throw ale in the proud little face. But the princess would kill her, dead as a suckling pig.

Midway across a cold, clear stream she caught the black scent of corruption, and stopped.

It was hot, and it seemed stone would tell them nothing more.

Galloping over the Yorkshire moors, wild as a lynx, with Christie Horley. Another life I had left.

I sipped, and the hot liquor eased the pain in the center of my chest, warmed the unfallen tears, made me long to bury my face in a woman's hair. In Julia's hair.

His eyes were hazed with memory, the way I imagined the blue glass of a doll's might look if it had been left for too long on an abandoned nursery, light streaming pitilessly through bare windows until the cheap glass clouded and cracked. Had he seen Kick's illness right from the beginning and decided it was too hard?

The killer child was her mistress. For now.

It's like dancing, like being a hummingbird among elephants, like having all your joints lubricated and everything suddenly turned to perfect pitch. Even the light changes. I call it the blue place.

She understood why a king often threatened violence. It felt good, and it worked.

He drinks coffee. I kill the people who mess with his girlfriends.

He was younger than old Yvain, his voice as supple as a withy-wound chariot.

The girl looked at the only home she had known, the furniture she had built with her own hands, the beautiful bowl by the hearth as new as the day the smith made it, and at her mother, who sat as though made of stone facing the cooling hearth with her back to the entrance and to the girl.

That's…" "An excellent idea. I do have them sometimes. Yes. Now go.

She met his gaze, agate to jet. She would not flinch, not even if the water turned into a river of fire. She stepped forward, bent her head, and set her will.

Fursey, hostage to the king and tutor to the light of the world, was fond of good wine and long conversations at meat about the wrongs of the world and how to right them, and in the course of things the long conversations naturally made him more thirsty.

The sense of the world shifting was so strong she swayed in the saddle.

What other pearls of wisdom has she dropped in your ready ear?

The briefcase was old, worn and comfortable. It spoke of a real person with a real life, real feelings.

She might wish Bony were bigger, and she might wish for a shield, but this was what she had.

The way my parents see me, more Crip than Kick, I saw I've been doing that to myself. Cutting myself down to size before anyone else could do it." "Protecting yourself." "Making myself small.

Act as though there is nothing wrong, and you can make it true, for a while.

He could send his words trilling into the roof corners or scuttling through floor rushes.