“On a morning like this, fear is a blue sky emptied of birds.”
― Fran Wilde, quote from Updraft
“I tried to quash my anger and fear. If I was being set up to fail, then I would fail spectacularly.”
― Fran Wilde, quote from Updraft
“I had become an arrow of sound aimed at the most terrible creature in the city.”
― Fran Wilde, quote from Updraft
“Singers say ‘tradition’ when they don’t want to explain.” “It’s more than that.” Wik shook his head, struggling for patience. “It’s about our history. About how people work. Traditions hold the city together, like the bridges do the towers. Once, we had no traditions. Only fear and loss.” There”
― Fran Wilde, quote from Updraft
“I did—and if my stomach hadn’t been emptier than the sky before a migration, I might have been sick with it.”
― Fran Wilde, quote from Updraft
“An einem Morgen wie diesem war Furcht ein blauer Himmel, von dem alle Vögel verschwunden waren.”
― Fran Wilde, quote from Updraft
“Worse, I had yet to go into open sky since the migration. The thought, even though the Singers had declared the skymouths gone for now and the skies safe, made my dinner feel like a pannier full of guano. Elna”
― Fran Wilde, quote from Updraft
“This was why Singers clung to tradition. To Laws. Surprises conflicted too much with duty. Sellis”
― Fran Wilde, quote from Updraft
Fran Wilde
Born place: Philadelphia, The United States
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“Don’t want no more rock,” Orc repeated.
The bleeding stopped almost immediately.
“Does it hurt?” Lana asked. “I mean the rock. I know the hole hurts.”
“No. It don’t hurt.” Orc slammed his fist against his opposite arm, hard enough that any human arm would have been shattered. “I barely feel it. Even Drake’s whip, when we was fighting, I barely felt it.”
Suddenly he was weeping. Tears rolled from human eyes onto cheeks of flesh and pebbles.
“I don’t feel nothing except…” He pointed a thick stone finger at the flesh of his face.
“Yeah,” Lana said. Her irritation was gone. Her burden was smaller, maybe, than Orc’s.”
― Michael Grant, quote from Hunger
“Thanks to ideology, the twentieth century was fated to experience evildoing on a scale calculated in the millions. This cannot be denied, nor passed over, nor surpressed. How, then, do we dare insist that evildoers do not exist? And whi was it that destroyed these millions? Without evildoers there would have been no Archipelago.
There was a rumor going the rounds between 1918 and 1920 that the Petrograd Cheka, headed by Uritsky, and the Odessa Cheka, headed by Deich, did not shoot all those condemned to death but fed some of them alive to the animals in the city zoos. I do not know whether this is truth or calumny, or, if there were any such cases, how many were there. But I wouldn't set out to look for proof, either. Following the practice of the bluecaps, I would propose that they prove to us that this was impossible. How else could they get food for the zoos in those famine years? Take it away from the workibg class? Those enemies were going to die anyway, so why couldn't their deaths support the zoo economy of the Republic and thereby assist our march into the future? Wasn't it expedient?
That is the precise line the Shakespearean evildoer could not cross. But the evildoer with ideology does cross it, and his eyes remain dry and clear.”
― Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, quote from The Gulag Archipelago 1918-1956
“Why is it that everyone else can look like they’re part of a zombie hunting party, but I still have to worry about fashion?”
He won’t stop snickering. “You look like a leopard-spotted Shar-Pei.”
I think those are the little pug-like dogs drowning in massive folds of skin. “You’re scarring me, you know. It could haunt me for the rest of my life to be called a wrinkly little dog at the tender age of seventeen.”
“Yup. A sensitive girl. That just defines you, Penryn.”
― Susan Ee, quote from World After
“Problems postponed have a habit of solving themselves”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Battle for Skandia
“The universe, I'd learned, was never, ever kidding. It would take whatever it wanted and it would never give it back.”
― Cheryl Strayed, quote from Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail
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