Morwen Quotes & Sayings

I never think of an entire book at once. I always just start with a very small idea. In 'Holes,' I just began with the setting; a juvenile correctional facility located in the Texas desert. Then I slowly make up the story, and rewrite it several times, and each time I rewrite it, I get new ideas, and change the old ideas around. — Louis Sachar

The sword in her right hand appeared quiet and, in a split second, she pierced his chest from side to side. Her eyes were different, darker, with black scales. A gush of blood came from the mouth of Andrer, which looked at her. She could not decipher his expression. The sword dissolved and the boy fell to the ground. Morwen knelt beside him.
They lost blood. The bond was broken. — Chiara Cilli

DEEP IN THE ENCHANTED FOREST, in a neat gray house with a wide porch and a red roof, lived the witch Morwen and her nine cats. The cats were named Murgatroyd, Fiddlesticks, Miss Eliza Tudor, Scorn, Jasmine, Trouble, Jasper Darlington Higgins IV, Chaos, and Aunt Ophelia, and not one of them looked anything like a witch's cat. — Patricia C. Wrede

Four of us,' said Morwen. The cats yowled. 'Yes, I know, and of course you're coming, but you can't carry a bucket of soapy water, so for the purposes of this discussion it doesn't matter,' she told them.
The cats gave her an affronted look, turned their backs, and began making indignant little noises at each other. — Patricia C. Wrede

I had a huge advantage with Edward Norton because he's directed a movie before, so one thing he appreciates is how hard my job is, he's very sensitive to that. We actually ended up finishing "Leaves of Grass" a day early. — Edward Norton

I wonder whose job it was to assign these sexes in the first place. Did he do his work right there in the sanitarium, or did they rent him a little office where he could get away from all the noise? — David Sedaris

There is a way to master silence
Control its curves, inhabit its dark corners
And listen to the hiss of time outside
— Paul Bowles

You don't need to know who's playing on the White House tennis court to be a good president. — James Baker

It was an unexpected kiss and terribly poignant, because in it there wasn't a promise of love but a farewell.
Morwen felt the salty tears slide down the sides of the cheeks, while her lips moved in unison with those of Galadir. The Prince was holding her close, stroking her black hair. He wanted to keep her for life. He wished that moment would last forever, but it was too late. — Chiara Cilli

Morwen had perceived Galadir's lips over every body part and it was like tearing the flesh slowly and savor every muscular fiber. Savoring the man's skin was like drinking a river of blood. But then the blood and flesh were missing. There was only him. — Chiara Cilli

Gerry reached up to smooth a bit of that snowy mane. The strands slipped through his fingers like silk to reveal a witch's mark, a spiral of olive-green stones that seemed to be a part of Ghost's very forehead, shining against the translucent skin. Gerry had seen such marks before, peculiar glyphs burned into a witch's skin in vibrant jewel-tone inks to offer protection or enhance their power, or so the witches claimed. This was the first time he had seen actual jewels used, though. He thought it was beautiful, exotic like all of Ghost, with that white hair and those ice blue eyes. Gerry returned to admiring the peaceful face resting on his shoulder. — Morwen Navarre

She was young-looking--most because of the impression she gave of still being on happy sensuous terms with life. — Elizabeth Bowen

And Morwen lost control.
A quick bite and deep, and a flap of skin fell in her throat, sweet and juicy. Galadir pushed her away with all his might, backing away. Morwen put her hand over her mouth, shutting her eyes. — Chiara Cilli

They sat beside the stone, and did not speak again; and when the sun went down Morwen sighed and clasped his hand, and was still; and Hurin knew that she died.He looked down at her in the twilight and it seemed to him that the lines of grief and cruel hardship were smoothed away. — J.R.R. Tolkien

Galadir went to meet Morwen, across the lawn. Under sunlight, the Prince was extraordinarily beautiful. His skin was smooth and almost golden. And his eyes ... It was as if they had absorbed the light rays. They were pure honey. — Chiara Cilli

Galadir clenched his teeth, trying to endure the burning. All he wanted now was to continue to touch, caress her cheek pale, draw the outline of her lips. Who knows how much they were hot. If his skin burned that way, then the mouth had to be fire. He wished to put his lips to hers. Now. There. He did not mind her reaction. He wanted to kiss her. Much. Slowly, he ran his fingers over Morwen slender wrist and he stopped the angle of the roll against the bark. — Chiara Cilli

Then Morgoth stretching out his long arm towards Dor-lomin cursed Hurin and Morwen and their offspring, saying: 'Behold! The shadow of my thought shall lie upon them wherever they go, and my hate shall pursue them to the ends of the world. — J.R.R. Tolkien

Grown-up clothes are more appealing because customers need to be able to project themselves into them. — Natalie Massenet

Morwen was petrified. Galadir was getting closer. She could feel his breath, cold and accelerated. She imagined for a second like would be kissing him. A hazard too dangerous. And what if she could not stop? If by mistake, kissing him, she had bitten him? What if his blood was come down sweet in her throat? No. Too dangerous. With a quick movement, she stood up and walked away from the Prince. — Chiara Cilli

Life lessons cannot be applied topically. — Linda Robinson

God loves His people despite their sins and faults. — Jim George

Ghost shook his head as he sat on the very edge of the bed, poised to take flight if need be. The spiral under his hair felt warm, almost painful, but he resisted the urge to rub it. It never helped when he did, and he was not sure what Gerry would do if the man saw it. The Witch had a symbol she called a triskele, the ink a vivid scarlet still, but no male that had ever come for healing bore a mark like hers, or like his. He had never found the words to ask the Witch about it, about why he was marked like a witch. — Morwen Navarre