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Quote by Julie Kagawa

“It would be dreadfully ironic, I mused, if once I earned a soul, I forgot everything about being fey, including all my memories of her. That sort of ending seemed appropriately tragic; the smitten fey creature becomes human but forgets why he wanted to in the first place. Old fairy tales loved that sort of irony.”

Quote by Julie Kagawa

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Julie Kagawa
Julie Kagawa

Julie Kagawa is an American author known for her young adult fantasy novels. Her works include the 'Iron Fey' series and the 'The Lost Hero' series, which have gained popularity among readers. more

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“Существует забавная старинная теория, что у человека могут быть две души - одна внешняя, которая служит ему постоянно, и другая внутренняя, которая пробуждается изредка, но, проснувшись, живет интенсивно и ярко. Подчиняясь первой, человек бреется, голосует, платит налоги, содержит семью, покупает в рассрочку мебель и вообще ведет себя нормально. Но стоит внутренней душе взять верх, и в один миг тот же человек начинает изливать на свою спутницу жизни поток яростного отвращения; не успеете вы оглянуться, как он изменяет свои политические взгляды, наносит смертельное оскорбление своему лучшему другу, удаляется в монастырь или дансинг, исчезает, вешается, или - пишет стихи и песни, или целует жену, когда она его о том не просила, или отдает все свои сбережения на борьбу с каким-нибудь микробом. Потом внешняя душа возвращается, и перед вами снова наш уравновешенный, спокойный гражданин. То, что было, это всего лишь бунт Индивидуума против Порядка; надо было перетряхнуть атомы человека, чтобы дать им снова осесть на положенных местах".”

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“This was how it was with travel: one city gives you gifts, another robs you. One gives you the heart’s affections, the other destroys your soul. Cities and countries are as alive and feeling, as fickle and uncertain as people. Their degrees of love and devotion are as varying as with any human relation. Just as one is good, another is bad.”

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“Sometimes callers from a distance invade my solitude, and it is on these occasions that I realize how absolutely alone each individual is, and how far away from his neighbour; and while they talk (generally about babies, past, present, and to come), I fall to wondering at the vast and impassable distance that separates one's own soul from the soul of the person sitting in the next chair.”

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“At the conclusion of all our studies we must try once again to experience the human soul as soul, and not just as a buzz of bioelectricity; the human will as will, and not just a surge of hormones; the human heart not as a fibrous, sticky pump, but as the metaphoric organ of understanding. We need not believe in them as metaphysical entities -- they are as real as the flesh and blood they are made of. But we must believe in them as entities; not as analyzed fragments, but as wholes made real by our contemplation of them, by the words we use to talk of them, by the way we have transmuted them to speech. We must stand in awe of them as unassailable, even though they are dissected before our eyes.”

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“Jo, they have a baby grand piano, but no one in the family plays. They have shelves of books they've never read, and the tension between the couples was so thick it nearly choked us." "Let me tell you something 'bout those rich Uptown folk," said Cokie. "They got everything that money can buy, their bank accounts are fat, but they ain't happy. They ain't ever gone be happy. You know why? They soul broke. And money can't fix that, no sir. My friend Bix was poor. Lord, he had to blow that trumpet ten hours a day just to put a little taste in the pot. Died poor, too. You saw him, Jo, with that plate on his chest. But that man wasn't soul broke.”

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