“This is not an end. It is a beginning. You will need the courage of a lion to face this journey.”
“Our father was a great warrior. Our mother is proud and strong. They shared only one flaw: that their only loyalty was to themselves above all other cats. We're not like that. We understand what it means to be loyal to our Clan. We have the courage to live by the warrior code. And because of that we'll be the most powerful cats in RiverClan one day, and our Clanmates will have to respect us then.”
“More water will flow before we join StarClan. This is not an end. This is a beginning. You will need the courage of a lion to face this journey.”
“I would like to choose my own warrior name. If it is all right, I wish to be known as Crowfeather.” Crowpaw spoke so quietly, his voice was almost lost in the pounding water. “I wish to keep alive the memory of . . . of the cat who did not return from the first journey.”
“He won’t last the winter if we stay here, though,” Mousefur”
“Where’s Feathertail?” Graystripe’s gaze flicked past Stormfur as if he expected to see the pale-gray she-cat waiting at the foot of the rocks. Squirrelpaw stared at her paws. Poor, poor Stormfur. He brought the worst news of all, to RiverClan as well as ThunderClan.”
“The boundaries between the Clans run deep,” Cinderpelt reminded her. “Traditions are all we have to cling to.”
“The heart of the forest—and the roots of life for the four Clans—had been ripped out. Nothing would ever be the same again.”
“How did you get to be so wise?” Squirrelpaw asked her sister fondly. “How did you become so brave and noble?” Leafpaw teased, flicking Squirrelpaw’s flank with her tail.”
“Brambleclaw drew his tail over his paws with a resigned sigh. “Well, there are lots of sheep, which are fluffy white woolly things that look a bit like clouds on legs. They’re harmless, but you’ll need to watch out for dogs when you see them, because the Twolegs use them to control the sheep.”
“Graystripe’s gone?” Firestar whispered. He sat down, drawing his tail around him. Leafpaw’s legs trembled. Her father had never seemed so far away, so far beyond her reach to comfort him.”
“I’m not frightened of joining StarClan,” Crowpaw spat back. “The forest is dying anyway. At least in StarClan, Feathertail will be waiting for me!”
“I’ve lost Graystripe; I don’t want to leave another friend behind.” Ravenpaw shook his head. “My home is here, but I’ll never forget you, I promise. I’ll be waiting for you always.”
“We need a rest and a meal more than you can imagine,” Firestar meowed. Ravenpaw gazed at his friend’s mud-stained pelt. “Oh, Firestar,” he murmured, “I think I can imagine.”
“And then he reached toward me again, this time with both arms, as though he might wrap them around me to give me some comfort. But then he stopped, bit his lip, folded his arms, and strode away.”
“But so long as we are occupied with any other object than God Himself there will be neither rest for the heart nor peace for the mind. But when we receive all that enters our lives as from His hand, then, no matter what may be our circumstances or surroundings—whether in a hovel, a prison, a dungeon, or a martyr’s stake—we shall be enabled to say, “The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places” (Psa 16:6). But that is the language of faith, not of sight or of sense.”
“Bruce Miller, a neurologist at the University of California, San Francisco, studies elderly patients with a relatively common form of brain disease called frontotemporal dementia, or FTD. He’s found that in some cases where the FTD is localized on the left side of the brain, people who had never picked up a paintbrush or an instrument can develop extraordinary artistic and musical abilities at the very end of their lives. As their other cognitive skills fade away, they become narrow savants.”
“Wife beating without alcohol is like a circus without lions.”
“He looks at you like you’re the key to his soul and like he wants to devour you.”
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