418 Quotes by Mary E. Pearson

Today was the day a thousand dreams would die and a single dream would be born.

Killing is different from thinking about killing.

Now is not the time for my attitude to come out of hiding.

Now he was the one who was incredulous. He drew his knife from its sheath, but he was too weak to step forward, and it spilled from his hand. His sword remained useless at his side. He looked back at me in disbelief and slid to the ground, his face twisted in pain. I walked closer and stood over him, kicking his knife away. “You were wrong, Komizar. It’s much easier to kill a man than a horse.

But when I turned a chill caressed me – Go – a voice crawled up my spine – Leave – a finger turned my jaw – Hurry – and then there was a rushed blur of voices, hands, faces, running through the hall – Shhh, this way, run, don’t say a word. Death strode among them, glanced at me, but this time he didn’t smile. He wept. His arms were full and he could carry no more.

I was afraid of all the lost choices I would never be able to make, and that for the rest of my life someone would always be telling me what to do or say or think, even when I had better ideas of my own. I was afraid of never being anything but what suited others and being pushed and prodded until I fit the mold they shoved me into and I forgot who I was and what I wanted.

We wove our dreams together like armor.

Am I less because I have fewer, or do the few I have mean more?

Nights like this. They go on and on, outlasting the moon, because they’re made of something else, something as quiet as a heartbeat and as sweeping as the wind.