Danielle Mitchell

“Travel sounds fun until you realize what you really want is to stay at home with a cup of tea and a stack of books by a warm fire.”
― R.F. Kuang, Babel, or The Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution

“Women are the backbone, the foundation, the immovable force that still does not falter when men stand on our spines to grab power. So no, Callum, I am not fragile. The cracks in my soul aren’t broken places. They are veins cemented together with rage. And it will take more than the hands of men to kill my spirit, to break my will.”
― H.M. Wolfe, Daggermouth

“Greet every morning with a smile. That way it won’t know what you’re planning to do to it?”
― Brandon Sanderson, Shadows of Self

“Does it seem like things were better when you were younger?" Huck asked. "Did life really make more sense then?"
"Yeah," Tress whispered. "I remember...calm nights, watching the spores fall from the moon. Lukewarm cups of honey tea. The thrill of baking something new."
"I remember not being afraid," Huck said. "I remember waking each day to familiar scents. I remember thinking I understood how my life would go. Same as my parents'. Simple. Maybe not wonderful, but also not terrifying."
"I don't think things were really better though," Tress said softly, still staring at the ceiling. "We just remember it that way because it's comforting."
"And because we couldn't see the troubles," Huck agreed. "Maybe we didn't want to see them. When you're young, there's always someone else to deal with the problems."
Tress nodded. Beyond that, memories have a way of changing on us. Souring or sweetening over time - like a brew we drink, then recreate later by taste, only getting the ingredients mostly right. You can't taste a memory without tainting it with who you have become.
That inspires me. We each make our own lore, our own legends, every day. Our memories are our ballads, and if we tweak them a little with every performance...well, that's all in the name of good drama. The past is boring anyway. We always pretend the ideals and culture of the past have aged like wine, but in truth, the ideas of the past tend to age more like biscuits. They simple get stale.”
― Brandon Sanderson, Tress of the Emerald Sea