Jun. 12th, 2009

orbitaldiamonds: painting of dragon and books ([ a ] dragon and books)
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Circle of Three #13: And it Harm None
by Isobel Bird

p.5-6 They had learned that one of the principles of magic was that you should always remember to thank the universe for helping you achieve your intentions.

p.9 "Merry meet, and merry part, and merry meet again. The circle is open but unbroken."
p.93 It was a sugar cookie, delicately iced with pretty pink frosting, and written across it in red icing were the words BITE ME.

p.110 "He's just a guy," Becka replied. "Guys are easy to talk to. You just have to think of them as big, stupid dogs who want you to like them. Then it's easy."

p.115 "I was just thinking about how sometimes everything seems like a total accident, said Annie. "But then other times it's like I can see these patterns happening, making sense of everything. Only usually when I start thinking that maybe there is a pattern or a plan or whatever something happens to totally blow my theory apart."
   "My dad says writing books is sort of like that," Becka told her. "Sometimes he'll start off with this really great idea, and he'll plan every single step of the book. Then he starts writing and the characters decide to do something else that has nothing to do with his plan."

p.174 "We are the weavers," she sang as she walked, thinking of the words to a chant they had sung in class once, "we are the web. We are the spiders, we are the thread."
orbitaldiamonds: painting of dragon and books ([ a ] dragon and books)
[personal profile] orbitaldiamonds


Circle of Three Series #14: The Challenge Box
by Isobel Bird

p.37-38 While she would never admit it, and in fact would probably deny if asked, she loved reading Harry Potter. The way magic was portrayed in the stories was how she'd always thought of magic when she was little. Now she knew better, but it was fun to read about it in a world where people could make things happen just by waving a wand.

p.105 While she waited for her crawfish, she listened to the man playing the guitar. He hadn't stopped playing yet, and seemed content to keep right on playing the same beautiful music that had drawn Cooper in the first place. The song made her think of seemingly unrelated things: a slow-flowing river, fireflies blinking in the darkness, T.J., standing in a ritual circle holding hands with people on either side of her, listening to the sound of rain on her bedroom roof. It was almost dreamlike, but there was a harshness to it as wel, a sadness, as if the song was supposed to remind the listeners that life was hard but wonderful.

p.117 Sherrie trying to understand something about someone else was like a terrorist claiming he always checked to make sure there were no kittens inside a building before blowing it up.

p.144-145 He even looks the same, Kate thought, taking in his silver hair and bright blue eyes. Father Mahoney looked exactly the way a priest should look. He was wearing the traditional black suit with white collar, which just added to the overall impression he always gave of having been in the church his whole life. It's like the grew him at the priest farm and just picked him this morning, Kate thought.

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