At first I was thinking I wouldn’t want to read a big book about a marriage’s up and downs, but I got hooked on the characters during my kindle sample...moreAt first I was thinking I wouldn’t want to read a big book about a marriage’s up and downs, but I got hooked on the characters during my kindle sample. I’m glad I ended up reading it because, wow. Beautiful story. Enduring loves. Raw. Honest. Emotional. Heartbreaking and absolutely beautiful at the same time. I will remember these characters and their stories for a long time.
I would suggest not reading reviews, or the book club discussion questions & interview with the author at the end of the book, before you get to read it yourself, so that nothing is given away that may alter your reading experience ;)
Words. So many words in this beautiful story. A tale of childhood, this boy’s childhood . Full of details that enhance your imagination and make you f...moreWords. So many words in this beautiful story. A tale of childhood, this boy’s childhood . Full of details that enhance your imagination and make you feel the story and be there with its characters. Mysteries and magic only life can throw at us – the good and bad - some that we all wished for as children. Relationships with family, best friends and neighbors. Nostalgic of your own childhood. Heart. Emotions. Soul. Innocence. Love. Heartache, Imagination. Lessons learned. I just tried to hide my kindle from myself so I won’t finish today, because I really don’t want it to end – if only that will work for me! The only thing that made me take a break were the words and questions Cory spoke while talking to someone in the grave yard. I had to stop to take that in. Regardless of how it ends, I will remember this story for a very long time.
I would say this is a book you have to read at some point in your life.
UPDATE: 5 big beautiful shiny bursting stars because magic (the kind life gives us), has a strong, strong heart.
(only abridged version is available on audio - wait for the unabridged version)
Cornwell is my favorite author. I used to devour her books in one sitting, then I learned how to put them down in order to make the reading experience...moreCornwell is my favorite author. I used to devour her books in one sitting, then I learned how to put them down in order to make the reading experience last longer. I even saved this book, as long as I could, so I didn't have to wait a whole year for her next book to come out. In none of her previous books could I figure out 'who done it'.
With that said, I don't think she wrote this one! I was excited because Scarpetta was in Delaware (a state over from me), but this book didn't seem like Cornwell's typical style, to me.
Regardless, I will be waiting anxiously for her next book and continue to follow her tweets(less)
I'm so glad I finished the first book before the series starts on HBO this April :)
some of my favorite quotes:
“Never forget what you are, for surely t...moreI'm so glad I finished the first book before the series starts on HBO this April :)
some of my favorite quotes:
“Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.”
- Highlight Loc. 3029-31 He was desperately afraid. “Can a man still be brave if he’s afraid?” he heard his own voice saying, small and far away. And his father’s voice replied to him. “That is the only time a man can be brave.”
- Highlight Loc. 4411-21 ran at his heels, spinning and snapping if the other wolves came too close. His fur had darkened until he was all black, and his eyes were green fire. Bran’s Summer came last. He was silver and smoke, with eyes of yellow gold that saw all there was to see. Smaller than Grey Wind, and more wary. Bran thought he was the smartest of the litter. He could hear his brother’s breathless laughter as Rickon dashed across the hard-packed earth on little baby legs. His eyes stung. He wanted to be down there, laughing and running. Angry at the thought, Bran knuckled away the tears before they could fall. His eighth name day had come and gone. He was almost a man grown now, too old to cry. “It was just a lie,” he said bitterly, remembering the crow from his dream. “I can’t fly. I can’t even run.” “Crows are all liars,” Old Nan agreed, from the chair where she sat doing her needlework. “I know a story about a crow.” “I don’t want any more stories,” Bran snapped, his voice petulant. He had liked Old Nan and her stories once. Before. But it was different now.
- Highlight Loc. 4459-68 “Oh, my sweet summer child,” Old Nan said quietly, “what do you know of fear? Fear is for the winter, my little lord, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep and the ice wind comes howling out of the north. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides its face for years at a time, and little children are born and live and die all in darkness while the direwolves grow gaunt and hungry, and the white walkers move through the woods.” “You mean the Others,” Bran said querulously. “The Others,” Old Nan agreed. “Thousands and thousands of years ago, a winter fell that was cold and hard and endless beyond all memory of man. There came a night that lasted a generation, and kings shivered and died in their castles even as the swineherds in their hovels. Women smothered their children rather than see them starve, and cried, and felt their tears freeze on their cheeks.” Her voice and her needles fell silent, and she glanced up at Bran with pale, filmy eyes and asked, “So, child. This is the sort of story you like?”(less)
- Highlight Loc. 448-52 The death of a parent, he says to it, is a profoundly life-altering experience, isn’t it? When I was a child...more**spoiler alert**
- Highlight Loc. 448-52 The death of a parent, he says to it, is a profoundly life-altering experience, isn’t it? When I was a child, I often had this feeling of God’s in his Heaven: All’s right with the world—that’s Robert Browning. An English poet. But ever since my father died in the last war, I’ve awakened each morning knowing that I’ll never again feel that absolute security. Nothing is ever quite right, is it, after a parent dies? No matter how well things go, something always feels slightly off…
- Highlight Loc. 472-74 It’s like being in a sort of club, isn’t it? A bereavement club. You don’t choose to join it; it’s thrust upon you. And the members whose lives have been changed have more knowledge than those who aren’t in it, but the price of belonging is so terribly high.
- Highlight Loc. 5204-5 | Added on Thursday, February 17, 2011, 02:38 PM So you see, he says softly, we are all ashamed in one way or another. Who among us is not stained by the past?
- Highlight Loc. 6151-52 | Added on Thursday, February 17, 2011, 02:57 PM She can never tell him what she started to say: that we come to love those who save us. For although Anna does believe this is true, the word that stuck in her throat was not save but shame.(less)