Thirteenth Child (Frontier Magic, #1)

by Patricia C. Wrede

I can see plain enough that an angel straight from heaven itself would grow up crooked if she was watched and chivvied and told every morning and every night that she was sure to turn evil,” Mama said. “And I can see equally plain that fussing and fawning over a child that hasn’t even learned his numbers yet, as if he were a prince of power and wisdom, will only grow him into a swell-headed, stuck-up scarecrow of a man, who like as not will never know good advice when he hears it, nor think to ask for it when he needs it.”

“Because it’s a hard thing to leave a place where you’ve lived most of your life, where your brothers and sisters and parents still live, where some of your children will stay behind,” Mama said. “It’s a hard thing to risk what you know and are sure of, just for the possibility of something better. Even when it’s a pretty strong possibility, and something that’s a whole lot better.”

They’ve been saying you have a good-sized family.” “Any size that’s wanted is good,” Mama said,

You must be flexible. You must be willing to learn from different sources. And you must always remember that the truths you see are incomplete.

“Humility is as good for the soul as it is for the memory”

“Brant’s an idealist, and he’s competent. There are few more dangerous combinations in this world.”

“I may agree with your sentiments, but I very much disapprove of your way of expressing them,” Mama told him.

“Magicians!” She said it the way some of Mama’s church lady friends said “saloons” or “actors,” like she was cross that the word even existed for her to have to say.