Smell is the voice of the soul.

I do like the world quite a lot.

Being a writer is a good, good thing.

I know I would crumble if I lost you.

A heart is a heart in a child or a man.

All I've ever wanted was to be near you.

But the hoping, that's what really hurts.

Truth is when your mind and your gut agree.

Nom, do say something funny so she can admire!

...all things speak, in their way, don't they?

Life is short, so live extra lives. Read books.

You are my butterfly and refuse to set you free.

As a general rule, writing is very inconvenient.

He did a very good impression of a stone column.

I was under the stars, like a fish is under water.

What should I say? That I like him so much it hurts?

Go on, son, you're not doing me any good by bleeding.

What? Don't British women know how to use their knees?

No more crying. It's all wetness and no comfort at all.

A little snark, properly directed, can change the world.

My mama used to say, 'Are you sad? Then just wait a minute.

If you're listening Big Brother, I refuse to be Fanny Price.

Her nightmare clung to her like the smell of smoke to cloth.

He had a dashing smile. It nearly dashed right off his face.

I know they are naught things, but I devour novels.” (p. 57).

Listen to your second thought, or the third might be too late.

Look no farther than your hand, Make a choice and take a stand.

Uge, save me from the sauce of their loveyness-raso Forest Born

. . . as long as there are movement and harmony, there are words.

Make haste” Jane added, just because she always wanted to say that.

Over there!" "Where?" Enna asked in mock panic "Do you see something?

If we're mad, we're mad in large numbers, at least larger than yours.

Sometimes one does not mean to fall in love. Sometimes it just happens

...'Goose girl, may I kiss you?' She answered by... kissing him first.

I'm the sheen on water, Rin thought. I'm a looking glass. I'm not real.

I couldn't see what was real until time had washed away everything else.

I'm not bossy - I just happen to be more capable than most everyone else.

It was a pleasure, Enna, Finn, tree rat." "Did she just call you tree rat?

Your head will be fine,” said Miri. “It’s your neck you should worry about.

... fantasy is not practice for what is real—fantasy is the opiate of women.

... and with my last thought I felt some real sympathy for those poor chickens.

Does anyone smell roasting meat?' said Razo, 'Oh, wait, it's just Geric's face.

They laughed much harder than the memory was funny because it felt good to laugh.

I can see that one can never pay back Gilsa for the fear that she will give again.

No wolf falters before the bite So strike No hawk wavers before the dive Just strike

I am not sure I am ready to know what I think about that, so I dare not write it out.

Figure out what is real for you. No use leaning on someone else's story all your life.

Time is a wind that keeps blowing in my face and mumbling words that don't make sense.

Really, becoming a writer sounds more like a mental illness than a professional choice.

You've been quiet lately...but it's not so much the quiet as something inside the quiet.

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