He looked so glorious. Just like the knights I had dreamed about when I was six years old, whacking at brambles iin our garden, imagining I was fighting dragons and giants with a sword that made me invincible and wearing armor that protected me from all the things that frightened me – older kids, dogs, a storm in the knight, or my little sister’s questions about when our father would be coming back.
Was she happy? Yes. And no. Because now the words were back, and with them the name that had spun gold around her heart for so long she hardly remembered how things had felt before him.
Meggie thought this first whisper sounded a little different from one book to another, depending on weather or not she already knew the story it was going to tell her.
It had always been a myth that it was those who loved you who could see through you. It was those you feared who could see through you most clearly.
Secrets. They add to the darkness of the world but they also make you want to find out more...
She was gone. And his heart was beating too loud and too fast. Into nothingness.
And that everyone has to find their own path, even brothers.
Everyone living around this lake thinks I’m crazy, and if we go back to the police with this story, then the news that Elinor Loredan has finally flipped will be all over the place. Which just goes to show that a passion for books is extremely unhealthy.
The only way ghosts can hurt you is through your own fear.
Oh, if you’re a bird, be an early bird And catch the worm for your breakfast plate. If you’re a bird, be an early bird But if you’re a worm, sleep late.
But his heart, strangely enough, told him something else.
After all, that was what you wanted from books: great emotions you’d never felt yourself, pain you could leave behind by closing the book if it got too bad. Death and destruction felt deliciously real conjured up with the right words, and you could leave them behind between the pages as you pleased, at no cost or risk to yourself.
Nothing was more cruel than a heart made of flesh and blood, because it knew what gives pain.
Why such haste? For a foolish hope? Why did his heart always insist on believing that there was a light in all the darkness?
I woke up and knew he was gone. Straightaway I knew he was gone. When you love somebody you know these things. David Almond, Skellig.
To never let the other forget who they are – love is also about that.
Maybe love bore fruit even more poisonous than fear.
Yes,’ she whispered. ‘He was more worried about the book than me.
No, it wasn’t quite true that John had no conscience at all. Everyone had one. But there were many voices in his head that had an easier time reaching him: his ambition, his desire for fame and success – and for revenge.
It hadn’t been easy to reach the city where Jacob had grown up. The borders in his world were more tightly guarded than the island of the Fairies.