Choosing love or war: both are brave choices, in their own ways.

Henry patted Charlotte’s shoulder anxiously. “Would you like a cool cloth? What can I do to help?” “You could ride up to Yorkshire and chop that old goat’s head off.” Charlotte sounded mutinous. “Won’t that make things rather awkward with the Clave?” asked Henry. “They’re not generally very receptive about, you know, beheadings and things.

Atque in pepetuum, frater, ave atque vale,” he whispered. The words of the poem had never seemed so fitting: Forever and ever, my brother, hail and farewell.

A good adaptation of your book is worth it because it is such a wonderful experience to see your world translated onto the screen.

It is hard to think of something as a gift when you have been tormented and imprisoned for it.

You could have had anything else in the world, and you asked for me." She smiled up at him. Filthy as he was, covered in blood and dirt, he was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. "But I don't want anything else in the world.

It's been so long that I think I was unsettled by the idea of feeling like I belonged anywhere. But you made me feel like I belong.