Every now and then I like to do as I'm told, just to confuse people.
Threats are the last resort of a man with no vocabulary.
Someday I must read this scholar Everyone. He seems to have written so much--all of it wrong.
You look as scary as a buttered muffin.
Do you know, sire, I think that if we live to tell our grandchildren about this war, they will accuse us of making it up.' -Marielle
No more is your master a god, Nobility, but he wants offerings from all. When Black God claims us, who will be punished for giving worship and power to a false god? The prince? Or Banjiku?
Alanna didn't approve of lying, but in a pinch a lie was sometimes better than the truth.
Curse him for being all tight muscle, with ivory skin and a mouth as soft as rose petals. Curse him for having hair as fair as the sun, and eyes as black as night. Curse him for having the grace of a cat and deft, cool hands. And now I am having the same argument on paper that I have in my own head on too many nights. I know my choice is sensible, but it isn't my common sense I think with, those times Rosto's stolen a kiss from me.
Sometimes there's nothing you can do. [...] Sometimes they don't have enough to fight with.
That night, the Raka conspirators had plenty of news to report, particularly Ochobu. Aly had not known that the mages of the Chain had been laboring to eliminate any mages who had worked magic on the Crownβs behalf. So far they had killed seven of the most powerful. Chelaol would call this count of the dead another βgood start,β Aly thought grimly. This crude business of counting up lives taken struck her as a bad idea. It took the horror from death. When Ochobu named four mages on Lombyn who had had been killed in the streets of their towns, it had been about numbers, not lives. Maybe this is how you become a Rittevon, she thought. You get used to the dead being described as numbers, not fathers or daughters or grandparents. She turned to Dove when Ochobu finished, 'donβt ever be like this,' she urged. 'donβt think that it doesnβt matter if you only hear of murder as a number. If you keep it at a distance.
As long as there's life, there's hope.
A sudden thought shocked him to the bone. I could leave Carthak when I'm a master. I'd never have to think about the games again.
If I have to 'catch' a man to get a husband, I don't want one.
We live in a dark time. Books are as dark as what is available to teenagers through the media every day.
I don't write from dreams because I don't remember mine, but I had a fragment of an image left about twins, whose father was telling them how their lives were going to go for the next eight years. I wrote a scene about that, and then another and then another and then another, and after five months I had 732 pages.
Publishers have realized that, unlike the previous time period, American teenagers are both smarter and require more topical material than they had been giving them before that. For one thing, they'll read thicker books. Besides, has anybody looked at the news or read the newspapers recently?
