Each of us is our own story, but none of us is only our own story. The arc of my own personal story is inexplicably and intrinsically linked to the story of my parents and the story of my neighbor… — Kelly Barnhill Copy Share Image
“Patience does not run Nor blow, nor skitter, nor falter. Patience is the swell of the ocean; Patience is the sigh of the mountain;… — Kelly Barnhill Copy Share Image
“It had been years since Xan last walked this trail. Centuries, really. She shivered. Everything looked so different. And yet . . . not.” — Kelly Barnhill Copy Share Image
“In every breeze exhales the promise of spring, Each sleeping tree dreams green dreams; the barren mountain wakes in blossom.” — Kelly Barnhill Copy Share Image
“Each mortal beast must find it's Ground- be it forrest or fen or field or fire.” — Kelly Barnhill Copy Share Image
“That’s the magic of revisions – every cut is necessary, and every cut hurts, but something new always grows.” — Kelly Barnhill Copy Share Image
“Stuff. The stuff of stars. The stuff of light. The stuff of a planet before it is a planet. The stuff of a baby… — Kelly Barnhill Copy Share Image
“So maybe the Reading Room is magic because books really are magic. I read once that books bend both space and time, and the more books you have in one place, the more space and time will bend and twist and fold over itself. I'm not sure if that's true but it feels true. Of course, I read that in… — Kelly Barnhill Copy Share
“Everything you see is in the process of making or unmaking or dying or living. Everything is in a state of change.” — Kelly Barnhill Copy Share Image
“She was eleven, after all. She was both even and odd. She was ready to be many things at once—child, grown-up, poet, engineer, botanist,… — Kelly Barnhill Copy Share Image
“From grain of sand, Births light births space births infinite time, and to grain of sand do all things return.” — Kelly Barnhill Copy Share Image
“A person's soul is bigger than his body. It takes root and lives in all who love him.” — Kelly Barnhill Copy Share Image
Stories have a tendency to seep across the shining membrane walls separating the universes. They whisper and flutter like the feathers of birds, from… — Kelly Barnhill Copy Share Image
