“Her cheek against the moss, the young princess she had been - Aelin Galathynius - reached a hand for her. 'Get up', she said softly.”
―
Sarah J. Maas,
Heir of Fire
“Three mouthfuls. That's all Fenrys took before he laid his head back on the moss and closed his eyes.Rowan couldn't move. None of them moved.Aelin mouthed a short, curt word.Fenrys did not respond. She spoke again, that queen's unfaltering.Live.” ― Sarah J. Maas, Kingdom of Ash
“I shivered. Of course, that was the whole point of the re-enactment, that we ourselves became the ghosts, learning to walk the land as they walked it two thousand years ago, to tend our fire as they tended theirs and hope that some of their thoughts, their way of understanding the world, would follow the dance of muscle and bone. To do it properly, I thought, we would almost have to absent ourselves from ourselves, leaving our actions, our re-enactions, to those no longer there. Who are the ghosts again, us or our dead? Maybe they imagined us first, maybe we were conjured out of the deep past by other minds.” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“Suddenly, you will stop, you and me and all of us. Your lungs will rest at last and the electric pulse in your pulse will vanish into the darkness from which it came.Put your fingers in your ears, lay your head on the pillow, listen to the footsteps of your blood. You are alive.” ― Sarah Moss, The Tidal Zone
“Stories have endings; that's why we tell them, for reassurance that there is meaning in our lives. But like a diagnosis, a story can become a prison, a straight road mapped out by the people who went before. Stories are not the truth.” ― Sarah Moss, The Tidal Zone
“There was a scrape and crunch of shoes, then a small, smooth hand slid toward her. But it was not Chaol or Sam or Nehemia who lay across from her, watching her with those sad turquoise eyes. Her cheek against the moss, the young princess she had been—Aelin Galathynius—reached a hand for her. “Get up,” she said softly. Celaena shook her head. Aelin strained for her, bridging that rift in the foundation of the world. “Get up.” A promise—a promise for a better life, a better world. The Valg princes paused. She had wasted her life, wasted Marion’s sacrifice. Those slaves had been butchered because she had failed—because she had not been there in time. “Get up,” someone said beyond the young princess. Sam. Sam, standing just beyond where she could see, smiling faintly. “Get up,” said another voice—a woman’s. Nehemia. “Get up.” Two voices together—her mother and father, faces grave but eyes bright. Her uncle was beside them, the crown of Terrasen on his silver hair. “Get up,” he told her gently. One by one, like shadows emerging from the mist, they appeared. The faces of the people she had loved with her heart of wildfire. And then there was Lady Marion, smiling beside her husband. “Get up,” she whispered, her voice full of that hope for the world, and for the daughter she would never seen again.” ― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire
“Actually, said Molly, it’s no harder for girls to pee than boys, the problem isn’t biology, it’s men’s fear of women’s bodies. If we were allowed to pull our knickers down and squat by a wall the way you’re allowed to get your dick out and piss up the wall there wouldn’t be a problem, it’s just the way you all act as if a vagina will come and eat you if it’s out without a muzzle.” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“I didn't then like the thought of my own bones, waiting inside me for their own eventual exposure.” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“I knew by the signs it would be a hard winter. The hollies bore a heavy crop of berries and birds stripped them bare. Crows quarreled in reaped fields and owls cried in the mountains, mournful as widows. Fur and moss grew thicker than usual. Cold rains came, driven sideways through the trees by north winds, and snows followed.” ― Sarah Micklem, Firethorn
“Lights blind you; there's a lot you miss by gathering at the fireside.” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“The plant began to topple and I found myself feeling guiltier about killing it than I had about gutting the rabbits. The whole of life, I thought, is doing harm, we live by killing, as if there were any being of which that is not the case.” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“The northern sky, dark over the sea, is mottled with green that spreads like spilt paint… The green and white reach towards each other and then lunge away like opposing magnets forced together. I tread water, and watch.” ― Sarah Moss, Names for the Sea: Strangers in Iceland
“Fiction is the enemy of history. Fiction makes us believe in structure, in beginnings and middles and endings, in tragedy and comedy. There is neither tragedy nor comedy in war, only disorder and harm.” ― Sarah Moss, The Tidal Zone
“I personally don't like depressing subjects, people say, as if mortality is a lifestyle choice, disease and violence and sorrow a matter of taste.” ― Sarah Moss, The Tidal Zone
“Suddenly, but not really. There is always a beginning.” ― Sarah Moss, The Tidal Zone
“getting married is like voting in that whatever you choose the outcome will be at best mildly unsatisfactory four years down the line.” ― Sarah Moss, Summerwater
“It was bright again, as if England had forgotten how to rain” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“Dad and the Prof were talking about fighting, the way men do when they're really fighting about talking.” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“Who are the ghosts again, us or our dead? Maybe they imagined us first, maybe we were conjured out of the deep past by other minds.” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“Three mouthfuls. That's all Fenrys took before he laid his head back on the moss and closed his eyes.Rowan couldn't move. None of them moved.Aelin mouthed a short, curt word.Fenrys did not respond. She spoke again, that queen's unfaltering.Live.” ― Sarah J. Maas, Kingdom of Ash
“I shivered. Of course, that was the whole point of the re-enactment, that we ourselves became the ghosts, learning to walk the land as they walked it two thousand years ago, to tend our fire as they tended theirs and hope that some of their thoughts, their way of understanding the world, would follow the dance of muscle and bone. To do it properly, I thought, we would almost have to absent ourselves from ourselves, leaving our actions, our re-enactions, to those no longer there. Who are the ghosts again, us or our dead? Maybe they imagined us first, maybe we were conjured out of the deep past by other minds.” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“Suddenly, you will stop, you and me and all of us. Your lungs will rest at last and the electric pulse in your pulse will vanish into the darkness from which it came.Put your fingers in your ears, lay your head on the pillow, listen to the footsteps of your blood. You are alive.” ― Sarah Moss, The Tidal Zone
“Stories have endings; that's why we tell them, for reassurance that there is meaning in our lives. But like a diagnosis, a story can become a prison, a straight road mapped out by the people who went before. Stories are not the truth.” ― Sarah Moss, The Tidal Zone
“There was a scrape and crunch of shoes, then a small, smooth hand slid toward her. But it was not Chaol or Sam or Nehemia who lay across from her, watching her with those sad turquoise eyes. Her cheek against the moss, the young princess she had been—Aelin Galathynius—reached a hand for her. “Get up,” she said softly. Celaena shook her head. Aelin strained for her, bridging that rift in the foundation of the world. “Get up.” A promise—a promise for a better life, a better world. The Valg princes paused. She had wasted her life, wasted Marion’s sacrifice. Those slaves had been butchered because she had failed—because she had not been there in time. “Get up,” someone said beyond the young princess. Sam. Sam, standing just beyond where she could see, smiling faintly. “Get up,” said another voice—a woman’s. Nehemia. “Get up.” Two voices together—her mother and father, faces grave but eyes bright. Her uncle was beside them, the crown of Terrasen on his silver hair. “Get up,” he told her gently. One by one, like shadows emerging from the mist, they appeared. The faces of the people she had loved with her heart of wildfire. And then there was Lady Marion, smiling beside her husband. “Get up,” she whispered, her voice full of that hope for the world, and for the daughter she would never seen again.” ― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire
“Actually, said Molly, it’s no harder for girls to pee than boys, the problem isn’t biology, it’s men’s fear of women’s bodies. If we were allowed to pull our knickers down and squat by a wall the way you’re allowed to get your dick out and piss up the wall there wouldn’t be a problem, it’s just the way you all act as if a vagina will come and eat you if it’s out without a muzzle.” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“I didn't then like the thought of my own bones, waiting inside me for their own eventual exposure.” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“I knew by the signs it would be a hard winter. The hollies bore a heavy crop of berries and birds stripped them bare. Crows quarreled in reaped fields and owls cried in the mountains, mournful as widows. Fur and moss grew thicker than usual. Cold rains came, driven sideways through the trees by north winds, and snows followed.” ― Sarah Micklem, Firethorn
“Lights blind you; there's a lot you miss by gathering at the fireside.” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“The plant began to topple and I found myself feeling guiltier about killing it than I had about gutting the rabbits. The whole of life, I thought, is doing harm, we live by killing, as if there were any being of which that is not the case.” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“The northern sky, dark over the sea, is mottled with green that spreads like spilt paint… The green and white reach towards each other and then lunge away like opposing magnets forced together. I tread water, and watch.” ― Sarah Moss, Names for the Sea: Strangers in Iceland
“Fiction is the enemy of history. Fiction makes us believe in structure, in beginnings and middles and endings, in tragedy and comedy. There is neither tragedy nor comedy in war, only disorder and harm.” ― Sarah Moss, The Tidal Zone
“I personally don't like depressing subjects, people say, as if mortality is a lifestyle choice, disease and violence and sorrow a matter of taste.” ― Sarah Moss, The Tidal Zone
“Suddenly, but not really. There is always a beginning.” ― Sarah Moss, The Tidal Zone
“getting married is like voting in that whatever you choose the outcome will be at best mildly unsatisfactory four years down the line.” ― Sarah Moss, Summerwater
“It was bright again, as if England had forgotten how to rain” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“Dad and the Prof were talking about fighting, the way men do when they're really fighting about talking.” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
“Who are the ghosts again, us or our dead? Maybe they imagined us first, maybe we were conjured out of the deep past by other minds.” ― Sarah Moss, Ghost Wall
