Robin McKinley Quotes - Page 3

• ...there remained a strange formality between them, and her pleasure in his presence felt too much like missing him had felt during the last week.

  Robin McKinley

  Missing Him, Too Much, Lasts

  Robin Mckinley (2010). “Pegasus”, p.235, Penguin

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• What was she to say? "The prodigal has returned? The mutineer wishes to be reinstated? The subordinate, having gone to a great deal of trouble to prove her commander wrong, has come back and promises to be a good little subordinate hereafter, or at least until next time?

  Robin McKinley

  Promise, Wish, Gone

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• Everything was an adventure, at night, when you were where you shouldn't be, even if it was somwhere you could go perfectly well in daylight, and it was then only ordinary.

  Robin McKinley

  Adventure, Night, Ordinary

  Robin Mckinley (2010). “Pegasus”, p.100, Penguin

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• I almost wish I'd had the forethought to eat a tree myself.

  Robin McKinley

  Tree, Wish, Forethought

  Robin McKinley (2014). “The Hero and the Crown”, p.34, Open Road Media

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• The Lone Ranger of vampires. Did that make me Tonto?

  Robin McKinley

  Vampire, Lone Ranger, Rangers

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• Laughter went on and on, like sunlight and stone, even if the human beings who laughed did not.

  Robin McKinley

  Laughter, Stones, Sunlight

  Robin Mckinley (2008). “Chalice”, p.55, Penguin

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• I wondered what you'd have on the side with a plate of Deep Fried Anxiety. Pickles? Coleslaw? Potato-strychnine mash?

  Robin McKinley

  Food, Anxiety, Potatoes

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• She poured the water, arranged some bread near enough the embers to scorch but not catch fire, and looked up at Little John. She was so accustomed to his step, to his bulk, that it took a moment to notice his face; and when she did . . . It was, she thought, rather like the moment it took to realize one had cut one's finger as one stared dumbly at the first drop of blood on the knife-blade. You know it is going to hurt quite a lot in a minute.

  Robin McKinley

  Hurt, Cutting, Fire

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• One keeps searching for ease, she did not say, and not finding it, till the memories of no-pain seem only like daydreams.

  Robin McKinley

  Pain, Memories, Ease

  Robin McKinley (2014). “The Outlaws of Sherwood”, p.208, Open Road Media

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• She fell asleep, leaning on his chest, and he edged her a little off a particularly painful bruise, leaned his head back against the tree he had propped them up against, and closed his own eyes.

  Robin McKinley

  Eye, Tree, Bruises

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• [Gonturan] is a true friend, but a friend with thoughts of her own, and the thoughts of others are dangerous.

  Robin McKinley

  True Friend, Dangerous

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• it goes something like 'There are a lot of ways to be yourself.

  Robin McKinley

  Being Yourself, Way

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• She, too, spoke only when the queen or king addressed her first, but she looked searchingly at every supplicant, and her clear face said that she had opinions about everything she heard, and that it was her proud duty to think out those opinions, and make them responsible and coherent.

  Robin McKinley

  Kings, Queens, Thinking

  Robin McKinley (2014). “Deerskin”, p.145, Open Road Media

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• ...and again she wished for Sherwood, and the dappled roof of leaves that never weighed upon her. She pulled her scarf closer around her and thought, I would rather live in a hut in the woods; a hut like the one of my first memories, with a clean-swept dirt floor, and a brown-eyed boy watching me from behind his mother's skirts as I watched him from behind mine.

  Robin McKinley

  Mother, Memories, Boys

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• Friends you will have need of, for in you two worlds meet. There is no one on both sides with you, so you must learn to take your own counsel; and not to fear what is strange, if you know it also to be true. —Luthe

  Robin McKinley

  Two, Needs, World

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• There had been certain romantic interludes in the past that had included galloping across the desert at night; but he had never abducted any woman whose enthusiastic support for such a plan had not been secured well in advance.

  Robin McKinley

  Past, Night, Support

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• I don't differentiate in the way that the genre creators want differentiation to be made. I feel that I have never written children's or YA stories particularly.

  Robin McKinley

  Children, Stories, Differentiation

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• What I write, if you have to label it, is crossover, and I think that much of the stuff that is called children's or YA is in fact crossover and is equally valid for anyone who likes to read fantasy.

  Robin McKinley

  Niños, Escritura, Pensamiento

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• I like to assume that since I drive a car and maintain a respectable credit rating and rarely murder anyone and bury them in the back garden unless they really deserve it, that the fact that I hear voices wont unduly disturb anyone.

  Robin McKinley

  Garden, Voice, Car

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• the bus timetable sites are all run by an inbred cabal of malicious gnomes. Who don’t speak English. And who don’t count very well either. Or tell time. And they certainly can’t read maps.

  Robin McKinley

  Running, Speak English, Maps

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• I love you. I will love you till the stars crumble, which is a less idle threat than is usual to lovers on parting.

  Robin McKinley

  Stars, Love You, Usual

  Robin McKinley (2014). “The Hero and the Crown”, p.157, Open Road Media

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• I smiled. "I understand now. But It doesn't matter and you needn't apologize. They have been very kind to me too. Even if we did differ a little about suitable dresses." He considered me a moment, a mischievous light creeping into his eyes, and said: "Was THAT the dress - that night you wouldn't come out of your room?" I grinned and nodded, and we both laughed.

  Robin McKinley

  Eye, Night, Light

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• Betrayal would be a different sort of sick.

  Robin McKinley

  Betrayal, Sick, Different

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• The magic in that country was so thick and tenacious that it settled over the land like chalk-dust and over floors and shelves like slightly sticky plaster-dust. (Housecleaners in that country earned unusually good wages.) If you lived in that country, you had to de-scale your kettle of its encrustation of magic at least once a week, because if you didn't, you might find yourself pouring hissing snakes or pond slime into your teapot instead of water.

  Robin McKinley

  Country, Dust, Land

  Robin Mckinley (2002). “Spindle's End”, p.11, Penguin

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• It's hard to look too grand when you're led by someone who looks like a pudding with legs.

  Robin McKinley

  Pudding, Looks, Legs

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