“I will be loyal to my Clan above everything. What I want doesn't matter. The Clan must always come first.”
“Mapleshade: "Your punishment is complete now, Crookedstar. You have lost everything."
Crookedstar: "No, Mapleshade. You're wrong. I still have a clan that I love and am proud to lead. And now... ...now everything precious to me is here, in StarClan. My family is waiting here for me, when my ninth life has passed. It's you who have lost. You have no power over me anymore."
Mapleshade: "I have destroyed you!"
Crookedstar: "No, Mapleshade. I still have the cats that I loved. You have nothing and no one.”
“Their father blamed me! And RiverClan cast me out, too. Can you imagine what that feels like? To be rejected twice? To be a loner when all you tried to do was to love?”
“Silverkit took a step forward and peered past him at Oakheart, who was standing on the far side of the clearing, watching them. Then she stared up at Crookedstar, her bright blue eyes shimmering. She was so like her mother — and like him, too, in the shape of her ears and the length of her tail. Crookedstar gazed down at her, feeling a lifetime of hope open up in front of him. For the first time that day he felt the warmth of the sun. Watch over us, Willowbreeze. We still need you.
“You’re really just training?” Silverkit mewed. “Do you promise?”
“I promise.” Crookedstar ached with joy. “I’m your father, Silverkit, and that means I will always keep my promises.”
“his first dawn without Willowbreeze. He could hardly believe the”
“I've unsheathed my claws too many times. I want to save lives, not destroy them.”
“Rippleclaw dipped his head. “Should I carry Hailstar back to camp?” Crookedjaw shook his head. “I will.” Brambleberry raised one paw to stop him. “You can’t. You’re hurt.” “It’s only a few nips.” Crookedjaw was too numb to feel anything. He crouched down while Rippleclaw and Owlfur dragged the RiverClan leader onto his back, then forced his legs to straighten to begin Hailstar’s final journey home. Crookedjaw”
“Never be afraid of the future, for it brings wonderful things.” As”
“And Willowkit.” Crookedstar stroked the smoky black kit. “I want her to have your name.”
“Tempers were as short as the days. “Hungry bellies make angry hearts,” as Birdsong liked to say. Tanglewhisker”
“Stormkit stopped at the shore, by a patch of clear water, and stared down. “Stormkit!” He hardly heard Oakkit’s mew. He was staring at the strange cat reflected in the water. That wasn’t his face! This cat’s jaw was twisted from just below his ear, hardly visible beneath one cheek, sunken horribly beneath the top lip. His nose was stretched sideways and up, and his tongue poked out at one side, lolling between his teeth like a fat pink worm.”
“Crookedkit purred, his jealousy melting. He loved Oakpaw too much to want anything less than the best for him. He just wished Rainflower loved them equally. Oakpaw”
“The world is so big! What we do matters to us, but there is always something more happening in a different place.”
“When he sees the state that he’s brought me to, his lips curl in to a heart-stopping smirk.
“You want this, don’t you, sweetness ? Because I can tell you right now, after just one taste of you, I want you more than my next breath.”
“castle. Let’s go see.” “Wait,” said Jack. He turned more pages of the book. “I want to see what’s really going on, Jack. Not what’s in the book,” said Annie. “But look at this!” said Jack. He pointed to a picture of a big party. Men were standing by the door, playing drums and horns. He read: Fanfares were played to announce different dishes in a feast. Feasts were held in the Great Hall. “You can look at the book. I’m going to the real feast,” said Annie. “Wait,” said Jack, studying the picture. It showed boys his age carrying trays of food. Whole pigs. Pies. Peacocks with all their feathers. Peacocks? Jack wrote:”
“the freedom of it all—the sense of having left one’s body, but not one’s mind, behind. Unless you happened to be a bird, the body was of little use up here: You could not run or jump as you did on the ground, but only observe. In a strange way, being an aviator was like being a departed soul: You could look down upon the Earth without actually being present, see all without being seen. It was easy enough to see why God, having called the dry land “Earth” and the gathering together of the waters “the Seas,” saw that it was good.”
“I don't want to take the women into the city until I know how things stand.' ' I'll tell you precisely how they stand,' Nicolo bitterly replied. 'The absolute ruler of this city is a Medici. The Pope is a Medici. People round here say that probably God is a Medici and as for the Devil, he's definitely one, beyond any doubt.”
“Today it strikes me that the most important aspect of these conversations was not so much what we said as what we took for granted, and what in fact was not so at all. We were wrong about almost everything. An accurate character sketch must take these errors into account, since they expressed one kind of reality - our actual situation.”
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