Trust me--you come close to death, you'll remember how you stepped out of its way
She outpaced Severn. Whole years of her life had been narrowly defined by the fact that she couldn't even .
Dreams are their own knife, Kaylin. Dreams, what-ifs, desires. We all have to have hope.
Communication was often like this, though: stumbling, tripping, getting up again. Moving, however clumsily, forward.
Kyuthe, he said. Kaylin. An'Teela. You carry my heart in your arms.
If you are always afraid to be known, you will never understand anyone else. If you never understand anyone else, you'll never be a good Hawk. You'll see what others see, or what they want you to see....
Nightshade—like any living, thinking person—was capable of more than one truth.
It can't be any worse than whatever it is Annarion's doing.You are devoid of an active imagination, which is disappointing considering the experience you have now amassed.
Kaylin is not known for her punctuality. She is known, in fact, for her lack--even by those outside of the Hawklord's command.
Because not all weakness has to be weakness
How much did a Dragon hide, when he walked the streets of the city?
Because sometimes saying it—where only you can hear it, but forcing yourself to find the actual words—is helpful. Or at least it has been for some of my tenants. Not all of them, of course; all of you...
There were days when boredom—or the possibility that things could get boring—was as much of a gift as life was willing to give.
If she fails to wake, I will kill him. I will not kill him quickly.
Hope. Such a simple word, to hold so much. I like it, she added. I think it’s appropriate.
She flipped a coin,
There wasn't a colloquial phrase, or curse, that went something like, May your day be full of angry dragons or, May every dragon you meet today be pissed off. But, there should have been.
But home, for us, is each other, no matter where we happen to be.
She could have written a treatise on the danger of dresses in about thirty seconds, but it wouldn’t have been printable.
She studied them all, her eyes tracing thick curves and thin, as if they were a mandala that moved with her, lived in her.