Kristin Cashore Quotes

I'm afraid of plenty of things," he said. "I just do them anyway.

In the end, Leck should have stuck to his lies. For it was the truth he almost told that killed him.

Katsa sat in the darkness of the Sunderan forest and understood three truths. She loved Po. She wanted Po. And she could never be anyone's but her own.

Location: Amsterdam, Where Fire Is Called "Vlam

That's interesting," Bitterblue said. "You think a conscience requires fear?

It humbles me, but it doesn't humiliate me.

It has been a hard lesson to learn, that greatness requires suffering.

She glanced up at him, and in that moment he pulled his wet shirt over his head. She forced her mind blank. Blank as a new sheet of paper, blank as a starless sky. He came to the fire and crouched before it. He rubbed the water from his bare arms and flicked it in the flames. She stared at the goose and sliced his drumstick carefully and thought of the blankest expression on the blankest face she could possibly imagine. It was a chilly evening; she thought about that. The goose would be delicious, they must eat as much of it as possible, they must not waste it; she thought about that.

For now, Lady Queen," he said, "allow us to continue to obey you. But give us honorable instructions, Lady Queen," he said, turning a flushed face to hers. "Ask us to do honorable things, so that we may have the honor of obeying you.

Our own story is even more important for us to know than history.

You're beautiful this morning," Archer said, stopping before her, kissing her nose. "You're impossibly sweet in my shirt." That might be but she felt like death. She would gladly make the trade; how blissful it would be to feel impossibly sweet and look like death.

I've been afraid of being Cansrel,' she said aloud to her reflection. 'But I'm not Cansrel.' At her elbow, Musa said blandly, 'Any one of us could have told you that, Lady.' Fire looked at the captain of her guard and laughed, because she wasn't Cansrel- she wasn't anyone but herself. She had no one's path to follow; her path was her own to choose.

Why does everybody throw every troublesome thing into the river?

Find something useful to do with your morning,' she thought to him as she neared her chambers. 'Do something heroic in front of an audience. Knock a child into a river while no one's looking and then rescue him.

That was what they did with themselves, those two Gracelings, along with a small band of friends: They stirred up trouble on a serious scale—bribery, coercion, sabotage, organized rebellion—all directed at stopping the worst behavior of the world’s most seriously corrupt kings.

For a group of people who claimed to be concerned for her safety, they did seem to have developed rather a habit of encouraging uprisings against monarchs.

I’m suspicious of the notion of a single book that would benefit everyone to read.

If her enemies were Brigan's friends and her friends were Brigan's enemies, then the two of them could walk through the world arm in arm and never be hit by arrows again.

Ideas were growing in all directions and dimensions; they were becoming a sculpture, or a castle. And then everyone left her, to return to their own affairs; and she was alone, and empty and unbelieving again.

Fire supposed he needed to be there in order to give rousing speeches and lead the charge into the fray, or whatever is was commanders did in wartime. She resented his competence at something so tragic and senseless. She wished he, or somebody, would throw down his sword and say, 'Enough! This is a silly way to decide who's in charge!' And it seemed to her, as the beds in the healing room filled and emptied and filled, that these battles didn't leave much to be in charge of. The kingdom was already broken, and this war was tearing the broken pieces smaller.

You’re crying.” “I’m not.” “Right,” he said mildly. “I suppose you got rained on.

I love you," he said. "You're more dear to my heart than I ever knew anyone else can be. And I've made you cry; and there I'll stop." She was crying, but not because of his words. It was because of a certainty she refused to consider while she sat before him.

Sit, Your High Majestic Lord Princes," she said. She yanked a chair from the table and sat herself down. "You're in fine temper," Raffin said. "Your hair is blue," Katsa snapped back.

And of course she understood now why her body wanted to run whenever he appeared. It was a correct instinct, for there was nothing to be got from this but sadness.

Suddenly Po shot into the courtyard from the north vestibule whooping. Katsa, seeing him, broke into a run and they tore at each other through the wash. Just before the moment of impact, Po shifted to one side, crouched, scooped Katsa up, and, with admirable precision, propelled them both sideways into the pool. ... Katsa and Po were trying to drown each other and, judging from their hoots of laughter, enjoying it immensely.

Your eyes are beautiful," he said, and she felt warm suddenly, warm in the sun that dappled through the treetops and rested on them in patches.

That was a perfectly reasonable explanation," she said grumpily. "Perhaps my advisers don't lie to me." "Isn't that what you'd want?" asked Giddon. "Well, yes, but it doesn't elucidate my puzzle!" "If I may say so, Lady Queen," said Giddon, "it's not always easy to follow your conversation." "Oh, Giddon," she said, sighing. "If it's any comfort, I don't follow it either.

Alone with Giddon again, Bitterblue considered him, rather liking the mud streaks on his face. He looked like a handsome sunken rowboat.

Part of avoiding thoughts about something was not encouraging opportunities for that something to makes itself felt.

Some people had too much power and too much cruelty to live. Some people were too horrible, no matter if you loved them; no matter that you had to make yourself terrible too, in order to stop them. Some things just had to be done. I forgive myself, thought Fire. Today, I forgive myself.

And the kings were no better to their own people than they were to each others.

Children are geniuses.

I wanted you to go away, because it hurts to be with you when I can't see you." - Po

How absurd it was that in all seven kingdoms, the weakest and most vulnerable of people - girls, women - went unarmed and were taught nothing of fighting, while the strong were trained to the highest reaches of their skill.

Everybody was strange. In a fit of frustration, she scratched out strange and wrote the word CRACKPOTS in big letters.

It made Fire so angry, the thought of such a medicine, a violence done to herself to stop her from creating anything like herself. And what was the purpose of these eyes, this impossible face, the softness and the curves of this body, the strength of this mind; what was the point, if none of the men who desired her were to give her any babies, and all it ever brought her was grief? What was the purpose of a woman monster?

Do you understand? I don't want you to do a thing if you don't understand it.

She groped forward, hands and feet, in search of darkness, distance and solitude.

The more I see and hear, the more I realize how much I don't know.

Hidden yourself in a hole and dared to burden no one with your grievous friendship? I will have friends, Katsa. I will have a life, even though I carry this burden.

But everyone has some kind of power to hurt people.

Your horse is named Small. Yes. Mine is named Big. -Fire and Brigan

But you're better than I am, Katsa. And it doesn't humiliate me. It humbles me. But it doesn't humiliate me.

If she was suggesting she was too wise with the weight of her experience to fall prey to infatuation - well, the disproof was sitting before her in the form of a gray-eyed prince with a thoughtful set to his mouth that she found quite distracting.

How acutely sometimes the presence or absence of people mattered

She'd lost her fury, somewhere, as they'd talked. She didn't feel it anymore. She wished she did, because she preferred it to the emptiness that had settled in its place.

Well then, "Katsa said. "Of course, we'll operate with the greatest possible secrecy, Bitterblue. And for what it's worth, we'll deny your involvement to our dying breaths, and I'll kill anyone who doesn't." Bann began to laugh into Raffin's shoulder. Smiling, Raffin said sideways to him, "Can you imagine what it would be like to be able to say that and mean it?

A man who fights you as he does is no better than an opportunist and no worse than a thug.