Seasparrow Quotes

“Love is hope for other people.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“I want you to know why I’m angry,” I said. “I want you to know why I get mean. The anger inside me is too big. If I look at it too close, I feel too much grief to survive.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“Why? Why wouldn’t revenge make things better?
I think I saw then the difference between my anger toward my father and my anger toward Kera. It was like watching two icebergs separate, after moving together for a very long time. One was enormous, the size of an island; so enormous that I’d been standing atop it my entire life and never realized it was dragging me away from myself.
The other was a regular iceberg. Not small, because icebergs aren’t small; but not bottomless either. Contained within a definable space. Able to be seen all at once, if I was willing to dive into the cold, and look at it from below.
Was I willing to dive? What would that mean? Could I look at one anger, without being overwhelmed by all the others?
I wonder if angers can connect to each other, if you’re not careful. I wonder if they combine, and feed one another, strengthen each other, make each individual anger bigger than it’s supposed to be?
That seems dangerous. It seems like something to look out for, in a life of perils.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“The truth is that I could scream hateful vitriol at Giddon in the morning, then in the afternoon, go running to him for help, and he would drop everything to help me.
Isn’t that the kind of person I’d like to be for Moth?
But how does a person become generous like that?”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“Wanting is confusing for me,” I said. “I don’t think it happens to me like it does to other people. I’ve watched people do sexual things. I’ve seen how it takes them. And I have an imagination, I have yearnings too. But it’s like yearning to be a bird. It’s like yearning for something that only exists on the moon.”
He turned onto his side again slightly, so he could face me. Then he reached a hand out and brushed my hair out of my face, just exactly how Giddon had done to Bitterblue.
“I understand that,” he said.
“You do?”
It meant a lot that he understood. And still, I wasn’t sure that I myself understood it. I grasped for a way to get closer to it so that I could explain better. “I feel like with a lot of things in my life, every step I take is slow,” I said. “Like glacially slow. I do a thing. Then I can’t do the next thing until I understand the thing I just did. Sometimes that takes me a long time. And I never know where the things will take me next.”
“You’re very articulate about how confused you are,” he said, which made me laugh.
“If so, that’s new.”
“You don’t have to change,” he said.
“But I want to be less confused!”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“We have lived the same life. But when Bitterblue looks in her mirror, she sees herself, and when I look in mine, I’m not sure which of us I see. Sometimes I wish I had stronger barriers against whatever she’s feeling. I’m porous. Her feelings invade mine and I disappear. Does this happen to other people?”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“It always seems to be morning when she remembers things. I open my eyes to the roll of the ship and the sight of her watching me with her thoughtful, gold gaze, and then she’ll say something monumental, delivering it as it’s as magnificent as which socks I should wear that day.
Luta Voma, she said.
What? I said, confused.
LV, she said. Linta.
Linta? Ahsoken?
LV! Luta Voma!
I was trying to wake up, trying to form thoughts around why the words luta voma should be dropping into my consciousness with a splash of what sleepily felt like surprise.
Isn’t luta voma a Keepish expression for hope? I finally managed.
No, she said. Toma voma is hope.
Luta voma is something else, she said. Trust.
So, your prior name was Trust and your new name is Hope? I said. Isn’t that a strange coincidence, that they’re so similar?
No, she said. Girl tried many names before Hope agreed. Remember? Before, Hope liked Luta Voma. Now, Hope likes Hope.
It made me wonder, wish, that something essential remains, no matter how much we are hurt.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“Our ship is a barque. She’s a lot like a barquentine, but not exactly like. Similar in length to the Monsea, and three-masted, but the foremast and the mainmast carry square-rigged sails and only the aftermost mast is rigged fore-and-aft.
Do I sound more and more like I know what I’m talking about? The front and middle masts carry square sails that drop down from above. The back mast carries triangle sails that we raise from below, with lines I know the names of. And she’s beautiful, she’s so, so completely beautiful with the wind in her sails. She’s tried and true; she has barnacles clinging to her once-crimson hull that’s been burnished by the sun and the sea into something more weathered. Annet bought her from a wine merchant in Monport, on behalf of the queen.
Bitterblue wanted to rename her something boring, but Annet and Navi both cried out in alarm that it was bad luck to rename a ship.
I was relieved, because her name is the Fledgling.
“Silly name for a ship that’s sailed many seas,” said Bitterblue, but I like to imagine a grown bird that’s only just now learning to fly.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“I remember something else from the time I spent trapped. I remember Bitterblue’s voice, calling down from above. I remember how inconsolable she was, terrified that I was stranded in a place she wouldn’t be able to reach me. And I remember that even in that moment, my own pain began to shift into the wish to comfort her pain.
I lose myself in that wish. I disappear. Suddenly Bitterblue is there, and I am gone. It’s not her fault. It’s my whole thing, right? I disappear from myself. It’s a way of being I got stuck inside, a long time ago.
I’ve been thinking about how to get unstuck. Even if it hurts.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“ It’s like I’m drowning. The sadness is too great.
Girl breathing, said Hope.
She’d startled me. Dripping with snot and tears, I stared at her over my figurines. Are you listening to my thoughts, Hope?
Girl told them to me. Girl isn’t drowning. Girl breathing.
I feel like I’m drowning.
Girl’s lungs full of air. Expanding.
I took a long, deep breath, paying attention to my lungs filling with air.
See? she said. Hope right.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“ You wouldn’t believe the things I survived. You taught me to last. But I don’t feel strong, like stone. I feel stuck, like stone. Like a thing that barely changes, no matter what it bumps against. I’m so, so angry.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“It meant a lot that he understood. And still, I wasn’t sure that I myself understood it. I grasped for a way to get closer to it so that I could explain better. “I feel like with a lot of things in my life, every step I take is slow,” I said. “Like glacially slow. I do a thing. Then I can’t do the next thing until I understand the thing I just did. Sometimes that takes me a long time. And I never know where the things will take me next.”
“You’re very articulate about how confused you are,” he said, which made me laugh.
“If so, that’s new.”
“You don’t have to change,” he said.
“But I want to be less confused!”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“Isn’t it nice, how much easier it is to have a flexible attitude when you’re getting what you want?”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“ Why do you care about the tiny particles that make up the precious things of our world, if you’re only going to tear it apart?”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“I study all the languages,” I said
“Because you’re a spy for the Queen of Monsea?” said Jacky, showing his dimples again.
“Maybe it’s because I assassinate foreigners for her,” I said, which I don’t, in case you’re wondering.
“What’s the Mantiperan word for annoying?” asked Jacky.
Dardya, I said, which is the Mantiperan word for brave. I do study all languages. And it is because I’m my sister’s spy, but it’s also because languages are like a blanket you can crawl into and be warm. And words are like pebbles you can throw.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“His nose brushed my neck. As the ship climbed a wave, I relaxed against him, but didn’t turn. Listened to his quiet words as he told me about his day, asked me about mine. When he smiled, I felt his lips on my skin.
We are moving; we’re not stuck. But we’re taking this more slowly than anyone ever has. We’re thinking about now, not where we’re going. We’re paying attention to what we’re building. That’s the way we choose.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“I barely even existed half the time. I couldn’t even touch someone unless I turned myself into a thing first, an empty thing.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“I grew up in boxes in the dark. I learned what it was like to wait, and hope, for something that never happened. To suspend myself in a terrible dream, while nothing changed. And then things did change, to something worse.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“All right, but you’re jumping ahead to the worst possible outcome.”
“As I must! What’s gotten into to? Since when are you an optimist?”
“I’m just being contrary,” I said, “as usual.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“ I was not made to be a chemist, I told Hope. Because it wasn’t just that I’ve never learned how to understand chemical equations; the more I work with them, the more I realize I’m not all that interested in learning. I think it’s great that scientists are striving to know what we’re made of at the most fundamental level. I too want to understand the things we can’t see. But not the properties of ahsoken. I want to understand the properties of people. Of me. I want to know what I’m supposed to do. Where I’m supposed to go.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“I wonder sometimes if he tries to bully me into talking by unnerving me with silence. Maybe he forgets how much of my time I spend in rooms with other people, pretending I don’t exist.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“I now think that buoyant is one of my favorite words. It sounds like bubbles of air traveling from the depths of the sea to the surface.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“I feel a deep sadness,’ he said, switching languages, 'except there’s a sweetness to it. It’s almost like a yearning. I don’t want to be there or ever feel anything like that again, ever. I don’t want to be hungry, frostbitten, or scared. I want to be here right now, having this life. But that experience is a part of me now, and it would hurt if someone tried to take it away. I would tear apart.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“We must be making a scene."
"Oh, who cares. Anyway, you don't need to worry, because I'm the one making a scene. Everyone'll think I brought my sculpture to the boardwalk so I could sit there hugging it.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“The lamp on the main deck casts just enough light to show me the rigging as I climb and I think about the ratline I’m standing on, the section of the shrouds I’m hooked to; the ratline I’m climbing to next. Every step is my whole world.
Below me, Giddon emerged on deck, then noticed my movements above. He was standing near the lamp; I watched him separate my shape from the rigging.
Surprise crossed his face, then anxiety, then outrage. Then anxiety about his outrage. He does try not to be patronizing, even if he doesn’t always succeed.
I watched him fight with himself, waiting to see where his decision would fall.
“Hello, Hava,” he finally called up to me.
“Hello.”
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“It looks like you’re climbing the rigging,” he said, “in the pitch dark, completely by yourself.”
“Annet’s on watch.”
He struggled with that one for a while. “Do you always let someone know?” he finally said. “Before you risk life and limb?”
“Why do you ask?” I said. “Do I need your permission?”
“Why, indeed,” he said. “Please remember you have my life in your hands, because if you kill yourself, Bitterblue is going to kill me.”
“I’m comfortable with that.”
“Brat.”
“Bully.”
Giddon was chuckling. It made me laugh, which was bad for my focus. “Go away,” I said. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Take care up there, Hava,” he said. “We would be lost without you.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“I’m good at waiting. It’s the sister of hiding. When I hid as a child, I was waiting for my mother to return. Waiting for the king to go away. Waiting for a part of the castle to empty so I could sneak through without being seen. Tucking myself into some corner somewhere in plain sight but hidden with my Grace, waiting for someone to walk by, or people to speak, or something to happen to break the monotony.
When I’m waiting, I make my focus small and particular. Listening for the creak of an opening hatch. Watching for a flash of light. Small changes and surprises are the only things that matter. I can turn everything else off, tune everything out. Waiting is a way of making yourself as empty, small, nonexistent, and safe as possible.
I waited.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“Maybe I need your permission to use my Grace too, just like I’m supposed to get Bitterblue’s?”
“What!” he cried. “Bitterblue doesn’t expect you to come to her for permission!”
“I mean, I never do,” I said scornfully. “But I’m supposed to.”
“I’m certain she had no such expectation.”
“What would you know about it?” I cried. “She told me it’s her expectation! Like five years ago!”
“Well I’m certain it’s not anymore! She’s talked to me about it!”
He was puffed up and earnest and hurt, and I don’t think he even noticed there was anything rotten in what he’d said. “She’s talked to you about it?” I said, and suddenly I was shouting. “She’s talked to you? Why hasn’t she talked to me?”
“Hava,” he called after me as I turned to go. “I care about you!” he said, which just made me even angrier, because he cares about my sister, and she cares about him. How could they care about me? They don’t know me. I don’t exist.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“Always nice to chat with Kera,” said Giddon.
I snorted. “Bully.”
Giddon looked straight at me, his eyes bright. “Hava,” he said, “you’re not a brat. You’ve never been a brat. I think I’m going to stop calling you one.”
“Oh, ugh!” I said. “What are you trying to do to me, Giddon!”
For a minute he watched me with an expression on his face like he was going to cry, or worse, hug me, but he pulled himself together. Then, his eyes still suspiciously bright, he kissed his own index finger. Then he tapped his index finger to my head!
“Maybe I’ll go check on Liel,” he said.
“That’s a really good idea,” I said.
He turned and walked to the back of the group. “Is he seriously not going to call me brat anymore?” I said, speaking to the air.
“Would that be a bad thing?” said Linny, still walking beside me, speaking Dellian.
“It’s tradition.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“I know you’re not Lienid,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to wear it. But you’re my sister, and I want you to know I love you.”
Punctured, I stared at the little gold circle in my palm. Turning it, I saw that the stones numbered four: one gray stone; one copper stone; another gray stone; then a scarlet stone. Like our eyes.
“You got me a ring for your wedding?” I said.
“I got you a ring because I love you as much as I love anyone,” she said. “I wear the same ring now too. Is that okay with you?”
I saw it then, on the littlest finger of her left hand. My vision blurred with tears. “Yes,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Are you okay, Hava?” said Giddon, lowering himself beside Bitterblue, sliding his arm around her, but his eyes full of concern, focused on me.
“I’m fine,” I said, blinking. “So, what are you, a prince now?”
“That’s right,” he said, grinning. “Finally something to lord over Po.”
“Po’s a prince too.”
“He’s the seventh son of a king,” said Giddon. “I’m a much more important prince.”
“Good to see you’re handling it like a grown up.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow

“Moth and I have been having quite a heart-to-heart,” he said.
“Oh? To what end?”
“No particular end,” he said. “She’s very young, you know. I can tell she admires you. I gather she considers you to be something of an adoptive mother.”
I don’t think he was trying to make me feel guilty or confused. But I was stung by a small, pointed shame. Moth is very young, it’s true, and I’m twenty-one years old. I’m supposed to be the grown-up.
I sought Moth out in the tangle in Giddon’s lap, immediately perceiving her little face, glaring golden eyes at me.
I spoke carefully. “Moth was quite helpful when Jeff took Hope,” I said. “And when he asked her questions, she gave smart answers.”
“What an admirable fox,” said Giddon.
I felt Moth soften a little, which only made me more confused. How am I supposed to find the balance between encouraging her to be brave, keeping her safe, and stopping her from becoming a bully?
Then I saw the indulgent expression Giddon was aiming at her and rolled my eyes.
“You have a lifelong weakness for bossy girls,” I said to him under my breath, which caused him to smile so wide, you would’ve thought I’d paid him the highest compliment.”
― Kristin Cashore, Seasparrow