Thornhedge Quotes

“She was theirs; they were hers. The love of monsters was uncomplicated.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“It never occurred to her to doubt her welcome. Such was the gift of a child raised with love.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“No. I have many mothers. If I am hideous, then we are hideous together. And that made it easier, because in her heart of hearts, she could not believe that her mothers were anything but beautiful.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Learn what you can. Use what you learn. You have not failed yet.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Toads are capable of sarcasm, but their blood runs too cold for hysteria.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Love wasn’t enough and trying wasn’t enough and nothing we did changed anything! It should have mattered. All that love and all that trying should have changed … something…”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“It was really very sweet, and so if someone asked me about Thornhedge, I would probably say that it is a sweet book, and then presumably someone would point out that the heroine is raised by child-eating fish monsters and the villain is torturing people and animating the dead, and I would be left flailing my hands around and saying, “But it’s sweet! Really!”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“She was neither beautiful nor made of malice, as many of the Fair Folk are said to be. Mostly she was fretful and often tired.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Surrounded by child-eating swamp spirits, Toadling felt intensely loved.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“the first lesson that Toadling learned, in that strange place, was loneliness.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“The love of monsters was uncomplicated.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“You were in pain as well,” he said, “and bones heal faster than spirits, I think. But I’ve felt a great deal better than I do now—I won’t deny it.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Two hundred years. It was immense—unthinkable—and ultimately meant nothing at all. Two years or two hundred or two thousand. The magic endures”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“I think . . . you are too human.” She spread her hands helplessly. “And you are not,” said Halim. Not with censure. Merely a statement. “Not entirely,” she said. “Not anymore.” There did not seem to be any point in lying. “I was born human,” she said, “but things happened.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“I have come because of a story,” he said. “You were right that everyone who might have told it is dead. I read it in a book. Several books.” Toadling felt her stomach drop. Books. Books were terribly expensive.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“There’s moly and salt and rowan and rue and candles, and a knife that my mother’s imam said duas over and also I had it blessed by the Benedictine monk who ran the library, so between the two of them, it ought to be quite holy by now.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Apologies made it worse. She had long experience with unkindness, but apologies undid her.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Thorns die from the inside out, like priests.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Greenteeth did not slap one another—not out of any virtue, but because a slap was such a useless thing underwater. When greenteeth brawled, it was with teeth and strangling fingers, spines and claws.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“The love of monsters was uncomplicated”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“It should have mattered. All that love and all that trying should have changed … something…”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“I am sorry,' he said. 'It is chivalry---no, that isn't true. Actually, it's my mother. If I swore before a lady, she would scold me, so now I must apologize instinctively. The apology is part of the curse. If I stub my toe, I say damnationsorry!”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Even so, he was probably vastly wealthy compared to her. Toads had little use for coin, which was just as well, because she didn’t have any. Even in the days when she had lived within the keep with other people, no one would have thought to pay a fairy.
On the other hand, she could eat worms and beetles and sleep under a stone, which humans could not, so perhaps it balanced out.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“How do they know?” she asked miserably. “Everyone who knew her should be dead of old age by now—them and their chin too! Their grandchildren should be gray-haired. How do they even remember there’s a tower here?”
She was talking, more or less, to a wagtail, a little bird that liked short grass and pumped its tail constantly as it walked. Wagtails were not so clever as rooks or jackdaws or carrion crows, but the fairy liked them. They did not make fun of her like the crows would, nor carry tales the way the rooms did.
The wagtail scurried closer, pumping its tail up and down.
“They must be telling stories,” said the fairy hopelessly. “About a princess in a tower and a hedge of thorns to keep princes out.”
She wiped her eyes. She knew that her eyelids were turning blue-black in response to the unshed tears.
There was no one to see her except the wagtail, but she pinched the bridge of her nose and tilted her head back anyway. The old habits were still with her.
“I can’t fight stories,” she whispered, and a few tears, dark as ink, ran down her face and tangled in her hair.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“It was in Toadling’s nature to try to please.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“We couldn't change her ... The queen loved her and the nurse and I tried for years and love wasn't enough and the trying wasn't enough and nothing we did changed anything ... It should have mattered. All that love and all that trying should have changed ... something.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“She learned to speak in polite words”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“She had so many choices and she had never had choices, never been given a chance to choose anything more important than what fish to snatch or what herb to pick.
It was paralyzing. How does anyone manage? There are too many streams and they all flow and all of them could be good and there’s no way to know. How does anyone ever choose to do anything?”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Eventually she ran out of tears. There were centuries’ worth still locked up inside her, but her body could only shed so many at a time. She was aware that her eyes were ringed with black and looked as if she had been beaten, but there was nothing to be done about that.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’m sobbing all over you when I should be mixing up a draft for your pain.”
“You were in pain, as well,” he said, “and bones heal faster than spirits, I think. But I’ve felt a great deal better than I do now—I won’t deny it.” And then he kissed her forehead.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“I have a horror that I will fall,” he told her conversationally, using the axe handle to lever a twisted trunk aside. “And one of these stubs that I’ve left will catch me in the thigh, right where the big artery is, and I will bleed out before I can finish cursing. And even then I will probably apologize for having cursed. My last words will be I’m sorry.
Toadling croaked a laugh. It was funny and it hurt, because she was nearly certain that her last words would also be I’m sorry, or perhaps just stammering as she tried to get an apology out.
“Ah, you are a toad again.” He swung the axe, then grunted as the blade bound into the dead wood and he had to wiggle it loose. “It’s for the best, I suppose. Toads probably don’t trip and fall and impale themselves on broken branches. I am feeling guilty enough for having bothered you. If you tripped on a branch, I would likely expire from guilt. The Brother Librarian said that I was almost guilt-ridden enough to join a monastery, but our faith does not have an equivalent. And if I expired from guilt, my mother would be very upset, and I would have to feel guilty about that, too. I’m babbling now, aren’t I?”
“Somewhat,” said Toadling, turning back into a human in a little space in the thorns.
“I thought so. I do that when I don’t know what to say. I talk to fill spaces. I’m a wretched liar. Although a good liar would probably say that, wouldn’t they?”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge