147 Quotes by Suzy Davies

Music teaches us about lyricism in writing, a delicate turn of phrase, selectiveness with words, rhythmic passages. Most of all, music, like good writing, touches our emotions with cadences that slip in like a subtle visitor, familiar and known before.

Nigel half-smiled. How Stella's eyes sparkled in the firelight!"I heard you play the violin very well.""I play a few tunes."Stella Chapman's voice tailed off, her red hair fell forward, screening her face."And you?" Billy said, diverting attention to the sandy-haired questioner. "What do you plan to do with the rest of your life?"Nigel went quiet."Anything, I guess." He threw out his arms, his palms facing upward. How would they understand? Only he had lived his life.

Poems are the music of our childhoods

There is wisdom to be found in fairytales, a deeper meaning in the magic of their worlds

We should not judge by appearances,” thought Stella. “Time shows us who we can trust. Then, folks show us their true natures. There’s nothing worse than false friends who lead us by the hand into all kinds of dangers.They have two sides—one light, one dark. Nothing’s unusual about that. But false friends take us from our true paths. I’d rather have honest enemies or rivals. They challenge us and shape us. They help us more than they know. They give us courage—something to go against.

Among the daisies,one day in March,a little girl goes on a pathwhere she stopsa little whileto see the bunnywho makes her smile ...

I don't like books which give me the answers. I love books that give me the questions

Now, don’t laugh!” the wolf grinned, showing a fine set of wolf-like gnashers. “I’m still young at heart, and who doesn’t enjoy a fairytale, eh?”The children exchanged a glance. Billy knotted his eyebrows, and said,“So, Grandma! Tell us our mom’s name!”“Well, now,” said the wolf. “That’d be Ariana!”“Correct!” Billy said, unsmiling. He imagined he was Mr. Brindley from his senior school.“And how about my birthday?” whispered Stella, wide-eyed.“Now then, my pretty little Sagittarius. Let me see!

The birds eyes were half-human. He traced the outline of the carving. Perhaps it bestowed on him some kind of secret ancestral power