At least her last words to him had been words of love. But she wished she'd told him just how much she loved him. How much she had to thank him for, how many good things he had done. She hadn't told him nearly enough.
Kristin CashorePlease, Katsa," he finally said. "At least talk to me". She swung around to face him. "What it there to talk about? You know how I feel, and what I think about it." "And what I feel? Doesn't it matter?
Kristin CashoreThis may be a thing you neither want nor need," she said. "But I'd rather you have it, wishing didn't, than not have it and wish you did.
Kristin CashoreThen she marched to the pillows and beat them mercilessly until they lay puffed out like obedient clouds.
Kristin CashoreI'd thought once, actually, of taking your mind, if you asked. I'd thought I could help you fall asleep at night." He opened his mouth to say something. Shut it again. His face closed for a moment, his unreadable mask falling into place. He spoke softly. "But that wouldn't be fair; for after I slept you'd be left awake, with no one to help you sleep.
Kristin Cashore