What I love most about this book so far is that from the first pages I can picture everything -- picture it as a movie that I want to be an extra in!!...moreWhat I love most about this book so far is that from the first pages I can picture everything -- picture it as a movie that I want to be an extra in!! I love coming across parts that get me so hyped up I can’t sleep (Pg 74; last Par on pg120-leading into pg121; Ch 26), or cry (Ch 17). Love reading a sentence and thinking DiMuzio's writing is beautiful or wondering how she created this world. Love the surprises and the anticipation. Love when a book wants me to savor it in a comfy chair :) Love when a book does all those things. Is it going to leave me hanging at the end? STOP, don’t anyone answer that!! I love not knowing...wait, tell me. NO, don’t.(less)
I really enjoyed the story and didn't want it to end! Although, there were a few sentences that seemed either out of place for the time, or maybe too...moreI really enjoyed the story and didn't want it to end! Although, there were a few sentences that seemed either out of place for the time, or maybe too 'young adult' for me, I'll be adding this to my favorites shelf. It was a nice take on time travel and a good summertime/vacation read! Interested in checking out more of Hoffman's books. (less)
I really enjoyed reading this book and the author's writing style. It took me a long time to get through but only because it fell during a part of the...moreI really enjoyed reading this book and the author's writing style. It took me a long time to get through but only because it fell during a part of the summer where I haven't found a lot of time to read. Coincidentally, it turned out to be a great summer read.
some favorite quotes:
“The words given voice inside the mind are not always clear, however; they can be gentle and elliptical, what the prophets call the bat qol, the daughter of the voice of God, she who speaks in whispers and half-seen images.”
“Holmes had cultivated the ability to still the noise of the mind, by smoking his pipe and playing nontunes on the violin. He once compared this mental state with the sort of passive seeing that enables the eye, in a dim light or at a great distance, to grasp details with greater clarity by focusing slightly to one side of the object of interest. When active, strained vision only obscures and frustrates, looking away often permits the eyes to see and interpret the shapes of what it sees. Thus does inattention allow the mind to register the still, small whisper of the daughter of the voice.”
“You cannot help being a female, and I should be something of a fool were I to discount your talents merely because of their housing.”
“Impossibility is a log thrown on the fires of love.” (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)