Quotes About Reflection

There was something about alliances she could not quite see, but the more she thought about it the less clear it became, so she set it aside for later.

All their memories interlock and look down the same path to the same places. Each memory reflects another, repeats, reinforces until the known becomes the only.

Hild stepped forward so the moon caught her face, thin and pale.

She didn't like the princely Boldcloak much. She missed her Cian. Missed the Cian she might have told of misjudging bandits and what eagles saw.

There are always people missing. And sometimes I see their ghosts.

Anger isn't a bad thing. It's just a feeling. Learn it. Understand it.

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

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

It was strange, seeing her in clothes I had not bought or lent her, drinking wine she had selected without my advice, without needing me there.

We drove in silence. The only things we knew about each other revolved around the death of a man who had been her friend and I didn't want to talk about that, didn't want to think about murder and men with money.

To learning experiences, even though they suck.

Gemæcce, Hild thought, staring at the pattern. She looked up, found Begu looking at her, blushed, looked down again. After a breath of two, she looked up.

Quiet mouth, bright mind.

When a time came to carve her name, would it be Dawnged, girl of Ystrad, T´ywi or Tâl, payment to Elen, or would she one day find her true name?

He was always just about to leave, always about to pick up the phone, and he always persuaded himself for a minute or two that stretched into thirty, into two hours, into night. We go back a long way.

She wiped her eyes, her not-blue eyes, and walked on through a drift of rain so fine it settled on her sleeve like dew.

My face looked like a picture of someone else. I turned this way and that. No, more like a picture of a rock after some vandal has ripped off its decades-old layer of moss and soil, and the bare stone is revealed.

Hild looked down at her reflection. A tall, obdurate woman gazed back. Blue-green veil band embroidered with gold-and-silver thread, sewn with lapis and agate and beryl. Agate swinging from each ear. Heavy yellow gold resting between her breasts. Dyed-blue girdle. A matching purse with ivory lid.

For a moment Peretur could not speak, only sit with sensation flickering up and down her belly and back, like a school of fish swimming in and out of the light.

She could no more stop thinking than stop breathing.

She fell into a waking dream and on clear nights walked for miles on the world and in the woods.

Your eyes are different in this light. No colour at all. Like cement.

I'm your friend. I have been for a long time, even if I sometimes wonder if you know what that means.

I wondered whether to file flattery under useful teaching technique or craven behavior.