Quotes from Mary E. Pearson

Watch and you will find the magic.

Rahtan, Ten, Shadowmaker, no title you hold is going to make me change my mind on this one,' he had growled to me under his breath as we got our gear together. 'And only today does an ambassador trump a Patrei,' he added, and then kissed me, long and hard. 'We'll see about that, pretty boy,' I whispered back to him.

Who made you afraid of an open world? An open sky?

like it better, nothing like sunshine dried right into your clothes.

abuelita speaks no english. she doesn't need to, zoe thinks. her smile fills and communicates so much more than the empty, half-said words of zoe's life.

but she still burns. she is on fire with need. burning that goes deeper than her skin, etched deeply, maybe in her soul, and there seems to be nothing for it, no balm, save inching her arms up to hold herself and wishin the arms weren't her own.

If we spend too much time reliving the past, it gets us nowhere,

I play the if game too, Tavish. It´s practically a hobby of mine, but I´ve found it´s a game of endless possibilities with no winner. No matter how great a gift or skill, it´s impossible to forsee every outcome.

I felt her tongue on mine, the warmth of her lips, breathed in the scent of her skin and hair, and we were in the wilderness again, and nothing else mattered.

We're all part of a greater story too... one that transcends wind, time... even our own tears.

My mother was beautiful but so very young. Too young to have me, but she did, and she loved me.

Seeing Malich dead was suddenly a very small victory. The satisfaction trickled away, like his blood across the floor. His death only gave me an ending-it didn´t give back what had been taken.

It seemed there was no bottom to whatever abyss we bordered, and with each step, I vowed if I ever did meet the trail's end and was unmasked and untied, I'd never waste a chance again—if I was going to die, it would be when I could plainly see Kaden as I thrust a knife between his deceitful Vendan ribs.

Even we are guilty of not nurturing gifts, and the gifts that aren't fed shrivel and die.

Lay down your arms, and we will create a hope that lasts

Because everything was flying out of control. Because she was right - I wanted to trust her but I didn't. Because when I left a week ago, she had kissed me. Because I so stupidly loved her.

Isn't that what all of life is anyway? Shards. Bits. Moments. Am I less because I have fewer, or do the few I have mean more? Am I just as full as anyone else? Enough? Pieces. I hold them like they are life itself. They nearly are.

Pauline frowned. "But you're not a soldier, Lia. You're his daughter. You had no choice, and that meant I had no choice. No one should be forced to marry someone they don't love." She lay back, gazing up at the stars and wrinkling her nose. "Especially not some old stuffy, puffy prince." We broke into giggles again, and more than the air I breathed, I was thankful for Pauline.

I needed her to know with certainty my feelings for her—before I told her that the man who took her mother worked for us.

tall, gangly boy stumbled through a swinging door with a burlap cloth in his arms, the tail of a fish wagging out the end. "Loafhead! Where's my cod? I'm to make stew with a crappie?" She grabbed the fish from him anyway, slapped it down on the butcher block, and with one decisive chop, whacked its head off with a cleaver. I guessed the crappie would do. So

He looks at me and I know he is going to say no but I don't turn away and I don't stop looking because ever since Mira said I noticed him I have made a point not to notice him and for the first time I am noticing that his eyes have a dark ring of brown around a golden iris and I find that infinitely interesting because my eyes are the same color and I think he notices this too at the exact same moment and a chill shivers over me, and like a miracle, he says, "Let's go.

If I'd felt like a cloud before, now I was like a planet winking from the heavens. A burden shared wasn't so heavy to bear anymore.

I have two arms but not a bone, I can't be hurt with knife or stone. I have a head but lack a face, I don't need eyes to match your pace. I'm shifty, a thief, a trick of the eyes, My robes are made of mystery and lies. I am short, I am thin, I am monstrous and tall, But when midnight comes, I am nothing at all.

My first encounter with Rafe had been a contentious one, and not by any stretch had I been smitten the way Walther was when he saw Greta. And Rafe certainly hadn't wooed me with sweet words the way Mikael had Pauline. But maybe that didn't make it any less true. Maybe there were a hundred different ways to fall in love.