Quotes from Shannon Hale

I don't know how you persist in being so stubborn-" "It's a superpower. I was bitten by a radioactive mule.

You are my butterfly and refuse to set you free.

Writing a first draft and reminding myself that I'm simply shoveling sand into a box so that later I can build castles.

If we're mad, we're mad in large numbers, at least larger than yours.

I keep thinking about a tale my nurse used to read to me about a bird whose wings are pinned to the ground. In the end, when he finally frees himself, he flies so high he becomes a star. My nurse said the story was about how we all have something that keeps us down.

He had a dashing smile. It nearly dashed right off his face.

She closed the book and put her cheek against it. There was still an odor of a library on it, of dust, leather, binding glue, and old paper, one book carrying the smell of hundreds.

When you get tired of worrying and mourning your horse and trying not to be afraid, tell me and I'll do it for you a while so you can shut your eyes and sleep peaceful.

All I've ever wanted was to be near you.

Its important to know stories. I felt the earth shift to make a place for you when you were born, and I came to tell you stories while you are young. And like me, you were born with a word on your tongue.

I, Geric-Sinath of Gerhard, declare that you're beautiful and you're perfect and I'll slay any man who tries to take you from my side. Goose girl, may I kiss you?

I'm writing a first draft and reminding myself that I'm simply shoveling sand into a box so that later I can build castles.

Yes, we'll yell, 'Help, help us, goose girl, and bring the terrifying legion of warrior geese'.

I know I would crumble if I lost you.

They finished laughing and caught their breaths, and looked at each other, and Ani thought Geric looked at her too long, as though he forgot he was looking, as though he did not wish to do anything else. She looked back. Her heart took its time quieting down.

I let my head fall back, and I gazed into the Eternal Blue Sky. It was morning. Some of the sky was yellow, some the softest blue. One small cloud scuttled along. Strange how everything below can be such death and chaos and pain while above the sky is peace, sweet blue gentleness. I heard a shaman say once, the Ancestors want our souls to be like the blue sky.

You're better than seven years of food. You're better than windows. You're even better than the sky.

Really, becoming a writer sounds more like a mental illness than a professional choice.

I do like the world quite a lot.

I was under the stars, like a fish is under water.

He smiled in a way that made me want to kiss him right on the spot. Or the lips. Whichever was closer.

We know it's all just daydreaming...But sometimes, it'd be nice just to hold something real in your hands that felt like a measure of your worth.

Truth is when your mind and your gut agree.

I cannot write to anyone outside myself--if I tried, it would be a horrible story, flat and lifeless. I write to myself. That's the only person I'm trying to please.