Nothing but the truth could break me. What is harder than the truth?
There was a cat, and they ignored each other.
We stare at a fire because it flickers, because it glows. The light is what catches our eyes, but what makes a man lean close to a fire has nothing to do with its bright shape. What draws you to a fire is the warmth you feel when you come near.
In truth, they seemed more content and faithful than many officially married couples I have seen since. Our.
Patience and propriety. It was the only graceful thing to do.
It exhasperated her, but she knew better than to force the world to her desire.
They were everything they ought to be and nothing else.
So strange and rare. So full of faraway.
Needless to say, playing these things hurt, but it was a hurt like tender fingers on lute strings. I bled a bit and hoped that I would callous soon.
Ben’s training has given me a memory so clean and sharp I have to be careful not to cut myself sometimes.
You go rummaging around in other people’s lives. You hear rumors and go digging for the painful truth beneath the lovely lies. You believe you have a right to these things. But you don’t.” He looked hard at the scribe. “When someone tells you a piece of their life, they’re giving you a gift, not granting you your due.
But only a fool claims there is no such thing as love. When you see two young ones taring at each other with dewy eyes, there it is. So thick you can spread it on your brread and eat it. When you see a mother with her child, you see love. When you feel it roil in your belly, you know what it is. Even if you cannot give voice to it in words.
Yesterday he had limped, but today there was no part of his feet that didn’t hurt, so limping did no good.
The key needed urgent tending. It was for certain the most restless of the lot. This wasn’t even a slim sliver of surprise. Keys were hardly known for their complacency, and this one was near howling for a lock. Auri picked it up and turned it in her hands. A door key. It wasn’t shy about the fact at all.
I grew thinner and more ragged. I slept in rain or sun, on soft grass, moist earth, or sharp stones with an intensity of indifference that only grief can promote.
You remind me of a willow.” She said easily. “Strong, deep-rooted, and hidden. You move easily when the storm comes, but never farther than you wish.
Her skin was more luminous than the moon, her eyes wider than the sky, deeper than the water, darker than the night.
There are some silences that even words cannot drive away.
She pulled the cork and sniffed it. “What’s in it?” “Sunlight,” I said. “And a smile, and a question.
Beyond all other trees,” she said with a curl of a smile on her elegant mouth, “the willow moves to the wind’s desire.