Who would awaken the past? It shines like a sunriseAnd cuts like a fine blade.
The most powerful weapon is hope.
For the others, it was still just a tale, like all the tales we told, night by night, tales comical and strange, tales heroic and awe-inspiring, the tales that formed the fabric of our spirits.
Trust can be a hard lesson; hope still more difficult.
His touch was like a bard's on his instrument, and it awakened a deep and mysterious music in my body.
His thoughts inhabit a different plane from those of ordinary men; the simplest interpretation of that is to call him crazy.
Meanwhile, the great ash would rest where she lay, and mosses would creep over her trunk, and tiny creatures make their homes her dim hollows. Even in death she was a link in the great chain of the fo...
I do not view suicide as wicked, just terribly sad. There is only one death, but it is like a stone cast into a pond - the ripples stretch far. Such an act must leave a burden of sorrow, guilt, shame...
If a man truly loves, he gives no heed to what others may think. His heart has no room for that, for it is filled to the brim with the unutterable truth of his feelings.
Ask us for any help you need...Let us be strong for you.
And they say, if ever a traveler plucks the wild parsley, and takes the bark of the hazel tree, and the secret toadstools, and mixes them with crocus from the patch of forest where the hero's last bon...
You will find the way, daughter of the forest. Through grief and pain, through many trials, through betrayal and loss, your feet will walk a straight path.
Death, of course, should not be feared, but awaited with certain wonder. To die was to step across a threshold into a new world, unknown, unimaginable.
But some things did not change...Courage, for instance. Dedication to a cause. Comradeship. When they were strong and pure, when they came from deep in the bone, those qualities could hold fast agains...
Trust is a thing you know without words.
You've only just discovered you have a heart. Let it beat a little.
Only a fool gives up his one treasure.
I should have realized, when Cathal kissed me in the hallway, that my response was the first raindrop heralding a storm.
He was seated on the bench now. He had his left elbow on his knee, his right arm across his lap, his shoulders hunched, his head bowed. White face, red hair: snow and fire, like something from an old...
You are a devious woman, Blackthorn,' she said. 'I prefer the term strategic thinker.