“And Jaypaw-well, Jaypaw can heal cats."
"Thanks a bunch." muttered Jaypaw.”
“Then stop being a know-it-all lionpaw retorted You're not my mentor so stay out of my fur.
Lionpaw at Berrynose in Outcast pg 67”
“Great; I get to be told I am dead all over again.
“Trees don't sneak on you."
-Brook Where Small Fish Swim”
“«Как же, так я тебе и поверил! — хмыкнул про себя Воробушек. — Расскажи еще, что над озером ежи летают!»”
“Oh, no! Hollypaw thought. You might be fed up with him, but we don’t want him either, thanks.”
“It was Tigerstar's ambition that destroyed him. If he had been willing to wait for power to come to him, he would've been the greatest leader in the forest.”
“I could run farther than a hare! I could fight the fiercest fox that ever lived...I could climb the highest mountain faster than an eagle could fly.”
“I feel like a bird!” he cried. The words were hardly out of his mouth before he felt his paws slipping. For a heart-stopping moment he thought the wind would bowl him over to plummet down to the rocks below. The landscape whirled sickeningly around him. Then teeth fastened in his scruff and yanked him back to safety. He looked up to see Crowfeather. “Thanks,” he gasped. “Just remember you’re not a bird,” the WindClan cat growled.”
“Like, Jayno-eyes? That’s just as stupid as Berrystumpytail,” his sister replied.”
“Three will come, kin of the cat with fire in his pelt, who hold the power of the stars in their paws.”
“There will be three, kin of your kin, who will hold the power of the stars in their paws.”
“Jaypaw wasn’t sure she was right. If the Clan cats failed to drive out the intruders, the Tribe, and the spirits of its ancestors, might have to face a journey of their own.”
“text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled,”
“And I learned all those many years ago to stop listening to what people said, and listen instead to what they mean. Some people speak with honey and intend to serve us poison. You, my lord, speak with thorns but yearn for cake.”
“Young? He’d hear his own harsh, pained laugh. Oh, no, not this lass. She’s old. She walked under a blood-red moon in the dawn of time, did this one. Her face is the face of all that cannot be fathomed, and she’s looking you in the eye, Whiskeyjack, and you’ll never know what she’s thinking.”
“and someday, fat innkeepers will bow to me.”
“Shall I tell you why young men love war? . . . In peace, there are a hundred questions with a thousand answers! In war, there is only one question with one right answer. . . . Going to war makes you a man. It is emotionally exciting and morally restful.”
“Sorry is for the things you've done that you shouldn't have not for things you believe in.”
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