416 Quotes by John Flanagan

Halt, for his part, said nothing. But when Will turned to look at his mentor, the grizzled Ranger met his eye, and simply nodded. And that, Will knew, was the equivalent of three hearty cheers from Halt.

He made sure he emerged on hands and toes, not letting his knees touch the wet ground. Halt scowled at him as he saw him spring athletically to his feet. “I hate young people,” he said to himself.

Gradually, the cheering died away, like a mighty wave that crashes in upon a beach, then recedes until there is nothing of it left behind.

Evanlyn smiled grimly as she thought how once she might have objected to the cruelty of the bird’s death. Now, all she felt was a sense of satisfaction as she realized that they would eat well today. Amazing how an empty belly could change your perspective, she thought.

They are. I’m pretty sure you’ll like them. They’re Skandians.

Halt? Are you awake?” “No.” The ill humor in the one-word reply was unmistakable. “Oh. Sorry.” “Shut up.

He’d just have to lie there and die, watched over by strange stars who didn’t know him, didn’t care for him. It was very sad, really.

Believe you are unseen and it will be so.

I’ll think of something,” he temporized, and Horace nodded wisely, satisfied that Halt would indeed think of something. In Horace’s world, that was what Rangers did best, and the best thing a warrior apprentice could do was let the Ranger get on with thinking while a warrior took care of walloping anyone who needed to be walloped along the way. He settled back in the saddle, contented with his lot in life.