Beauty: "You called me beautiful last night."
Beast: "You do not believe me then?"
Beauty: "Well - no. Any number of mirrors have told me otherwise."
Beast: "You will find no mirrors here, for I cannot bear them: nor any quiet water in ponds. And since I am the only one who sees you, why are you not then beautiful?
This place felt like home; not her home perhaps, but someone's home, accustomed to shelter and keep and befriend its master.
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Even Mongo liked him, although Mongo likes everybody. (Also Mongo was so thrilled with himsel for staying in the dog bed till I'd released him that nothing was going to blow his mood.)
Robin McKinleyIt's kind of interesting you're driving a car big enough for a wolfhound and a mastiff to get in the back of today," I said.
"And a greyhound, a dark brown bear, and a brindle utility vehicle," said Jill.
"Greyhounds don't take up much room," I said. "They're like dog silhouettes.
Stichwörter: humor dogs greyhounds
Majid gave me a brief dazzling golden stare and then half-lidded his eyes again. I know when my life is being threatened.
Robin McKinley[the sheep] sidled up beside him and bumped him lovingly with its head. Val looked at it sadly. "I am sorry, you ugly creature," he said. "I have not used my magic in a long time, and I am very out of practice.
Robin McKinleyStichwörter: humor magic sheep
The sheep, I guess demented with love, didn't object to this at all. Casimir somehow found time to pull up some grass for it, and it lay down and munched its grass and then chewed its cud like hanging out with dogs [...] was something it always did. Maybe it thought other sheep were boring and that it had finally found its spiritual home.
Robin McKinleyNo wonder he'd never really finished becoming one of us. We just thought it was because he was half Japanese, and lived in a huge house on the other side of town with a dad who was never home and who none of our parents had ever met. And possibly because he was an arrogant moody stuck-on-himself creepazoid And here he wasn't even a real gizmohead. He was just a grind. And a werewolf.
Robin McKinleySlowly, painfully, I let go. It was like prying my own fingers off the edge of the cliff. And that hurt too-particularly the falling part, and not being sure what was at the bottom.
But I did know. Now was what was at the bottom. I was already there.
Stichwörter: acceptance grief
The train is roaring toward you and the villain is twirling his moustache and you're fussing that he's tied you to the tracks with the wrong kind of rope.
Robin McKinleyStichwörter: humor vampire fatalism villians
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