Quotes from Jennifer Donnelly

His suffering will teach him kindness and compassion. He'll find his heart again.

Humans are selfish creatures who can always be counted on to do the wrong thing.

If the countess was Death, then Death was a cheat.

For the rich boys who get to go to the Sorbonne even though they're too stupid to solve a simple quadratic equation? For the viscount I was seated next to at a dinner who tried to put his hand up my skirt through all five courses? For the smug society ladies who look me up and down and purse their lips and say no, I won't do for their sons because my chin is too pointed, my nose is too large, I talk too much about numbers?

Her eyes drank in the colors of home—the soft gray of an arctic gull's wing. The clear blue heart of an ice floe.

all we need to do is begin. The rest will take care of itself. A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.

We all make mistakes," Lucanos said. "The danger lies in letting those mistakes make us." "Make us what?" asked Belle. "Make us believe we can't put things right. Make us think there's no hope. Make us give up," the beetle said, giving Belle a very direct look.

I'm so glad you're not dumb, Yaz," Neela said. Yazeed shot her a sidelong glance. " I thought you were going to say dead ." "That too." "Hey, thanks.

She questioned everything and was obedient to only one thing—her heart.

when a Chinese wished you ill, he would tell you, "May you live in interesting times.

The cuts were the truth, written in blood, and no one must ever read it. Rulers were ruthless. They did not show weakness or fear. They did not cry. They made others cry. Hadn't her stepmother told her that a thousand times?

Sera was beginning to see that love wasn't pretty words and easy promises. Love was hard. It challenged you and changed you. It filled your heart and sometimes hardened it too. Love demanded sacrifices. She'd made many over the last few weeks, and knew she would be called upon to make many more.

And so the world reduces us, all three of us, to our lowest common denominator.

But what if you don't like your own story. What then?

There is nothing more dangerous than kindness.

You have no idea how the story ends. You're not its author.

Oh, my. Oh, dear," he said. "Is this also love? This terrible pain?" Belle nodded. "Love is hard. I had no idea how hard. Is it worth the pain?" "Yes," Belle said. "It is.

Only fools rush Death,' said Death

No sunrises that stop you dead with their unspeakable beuaty, either, he thought. No whales breaching only yards away from the ship, showering your awestruck self with a cold ocean rain. No songs and whiskey belowdecks at night while the wind plucks at the ship's rigging and the ice beats against her hull.

Absolutely. It's the unhappy people who get things done. Have you ever noticed that? They build things. And discover things. And invent things. Like calculus. Only a very unhappy person could have come up with that. The happy ones just sit around eating strudel.

Love is a fearsome thing. It is braver than generals, stronger than fortresses. It opens graves and pulls rings off corpses. It sits up through the long, lonely night with a failing child. It fashions hearts out of scraps and bits and rusty things and makes them beat on, no matter how many times they break.

Her grief would run its course, like a fever, and release her when it was spent. He would not shush her or tell her it was God's will and that her da was better off. That was rubbish and they both knew it. When something hurt as bad as this, you had to let it hurt. There were no shortcuts.

I've been in contact with her. She approached me months ago. I know the terms of her deal. She's going to tell Ragnar that Ondalina's attack on Miromara was an act of war and that he must surrender. Either he accepts Lucia

Serafina slid the ring off her finger… "You belong to another Sera, not me," she whispered.