“I'll never tell you to stop loving. You see, I believe in hopeless love. Oh yes. I believe in it with all my heart, though you may discount the heart of an old nanny like me. For real love brings pain. Real love means sacrifices and hurts and all the thousand shocks of life. But it also means beauty, true beauty.”
“There is a moment that comes into every life when the right word, the right look even, could change the shape of the world forever. The wrong one could as well, though the resulting shape would be different. No word at all, however, and the moment slips by, and things remain unsaid that perhaps should have been said, perhaps shouldn't, and no one can ever know for sure.”
“I'll choose an ugly truth over your pretty lies any day.”
“Regret and repentance do not always walk hand in hand.”
“Our Prince does not give his servants hopeless tasks. They sometimes do not follow an expected path, but they are never hopeless.”
“You don't understand," Lionheart said, turning his back on the cat. "No one does."
"While I am a firm believer in the uniqueness of each person," said the cat, "the motications of the spirit are as predictable as the seasons.”
“Lionheart glared at the cat, who smiled back. "Can you read my mind?"
"No." The cat sniffed and seemed to smile. "I can smell it. Which is made the easier for the stink your thoughts give off. All this self-pity and moping! *I did what I had to do.* Lick my whiskers, you did. Be a man, and face your actions for what they were!”
“What, suddenly I am a figure from an ancient bit of nursery nonsense?" He lifted a forepaw and began chewing his toes, the picture of dismissive indifference. "And the next egg you come across you'll ask, 'Tell me, sir, what were you doing up on that wall anyway?'"
"Are you ashamed to answer?"
"I am ashamed of nothing. I am a cat." The cat gracefully placed his paw next to the other, sitting as prim as a perfect statue.”
“Fear was not well-known to Sir Eanrin. He generally found it got in the way, so he bypassed the emotion entirely.”
“I’m worthless,” Lionheart says. “I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t redeem my honor.” “You never can,” the Prince replies. He takes Lionheart by the shoulders and forces him to sit up, to face him. “But do you think my grace insufficient to forgive you?”
“There is a moment that comes into every life when the right word, the right look even, could change the shape of the world forever. The wrong one could as well, though the resulting shape would be different. No word at all, however, and the moment slips by, and things remain unsaid that perhaps should have been said, perhaps shouldn’t, and no one can ever know for sure.”
“No, something far more mysterious has taken Felix. He has heard the unicorn." Like a performer, the cat gave a dramatic pause.
"Um," said Lionheart.
"You have no idea what I'm talking about, have you?"
"No, sorry."
"Mortals," growled the cat.”
“For nothing you have done could equal the evil that I myself have committed against all who loved and trusted me. No regret you ever know will compare to the despair I knew when I recognized what I had done. And no forgiveness you may yet receive will ever outshine the grace that was extended to me, the vilest of all my Master’s servants. “No, Lionheart, I can never hate you, for in truth, you and I are alike, and if our deeds were measured against one another, no one could say yours were the worse.”
“Coconut,” he whispered. “Um. Would you please go hit my grandfather?” The”
“folks should always have a little too much, rather than not quite enough.”
“Grandpa Byron's eyes move left and right as he chooses his words. "I tried to. But I think I left it a bit late with your dad. He preferred computers to his own imagination." He looks at me, a bit sadly, I think. "A lot of people do these days.”
“Something Rich and Strange
She takes a step and the water rises higher on her knees. Four more steps, she tells herself. Just four more and I'll turn back. She takes another step and the bottom is no longer there and she is being shoved downstream and she does not panic because she has passed the Red Cross courses. The water shallows and her face breaks the surface and she breathes deep. She tries to turn her body so she won' t hit her head on a rock and for the first time she's afraid and she's suddenly back underwater and hears the rush of water against her ears. She tries to hold her breath but her knee smashes against a boulder and she gasps in pain and water pours into her mouth. Then for a few moments the water pools and slows. She rises coughing up water, gasping air, her feet dragging the bottom like an anchor trying to snag waterlogged wood or rock jut and as the current quickens again she sees her family running along the shore and she knows they are shouting her name though she cannot hear them and as the current turns her she hears the falls and knows there is nothing that will keep from it as the current quickens and quickens and another rock smashes against her knee but she hardly feels it as she snatches another breath and she feels the river fall and she falls with it as water whitens around her and she falls deep into the whiteness and she rises her head scrapes against a rock ceiling and the water holds her there and she tells herself don't breathe but the need rises inside her beginning in the upper stomach then up through her chest and throat and as that need reaches her mouth her mouth and nose open and the lungs explode in pain and then the pain is gone as bright colors shatter around her like glass shards, and she remembers her sixth-grade science class, the gurgle of the aquarium at the back of the room, the smell of chalk dust that morning the teacher held a prism out the window so it might fill with color, and she has a final, beautiful thought - that she is now inside that prism and knows something even the teacher does not know, that the prism's colors are voices, voices that swirl around her head like a crown, and at that moment her arms and legs she did not even know were flailing cease and she becomes part of the river.”
“My body is not a temple. It’s a skip,”
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