You really think joy is easier to come by than pain? What have you had more of?
Thank you to the world for being a wild and inspiring place, full of odd creatures, strange people, and mysterious cities. I hope by and by to know you better.
The thing he wished for most was a thing he had never wished for at all, not until he had discovered her. And it came true that night, and many nights after. A brief and shining span of happiness, it was the pivot point around which his whole life spun.
She had fallen in love with him twice. She loved him now with both loves, so overpowering it was almost unbearable.
When a street musician lowered his violin to inquire, ‘Hey lovely, what you got there?’ she said, ‘Musicians who ask questions,’ and kept on dragging.
And they were quiet but their blood and nerves and butterflies were not – they were rampantly alive, rushing and thrumming in a wild and perfect melody, matched note for note.
There are guerrilla armies that make little boys kill their own families. Such acts rip out the soul and make space for beasts to grow inside. Armies need beasts, don’t they? Pet beasts, to do their terrible work!
The truth, she found, felt smooth, like a skipping stone in the palm of your hand.
Better to be the cat gazing coolly down from a high wall, its expression inscrutable. The cat that shunned petting, that needed no one. Why couldn’t she be that cat?
It seemed she was in a cathedral – if, that is, the earth itself were to dream a cathedral into being over thousands of years of water weeping through stone.
It was as if she had emitted a pulse of radiation that reached him even where he stood, and it bathed him and it burned him.
If it’s not chocolate, it’s not breakfast.
Her courage was a guise. She wondered if courage always was, or if there were those who truly felt no fear.
We dreamed together of the world remade.
And I’ve found that since you can’t electrify yourself like a fence, the next best thing is to have murderer’s eyes.
Long life is a burden, when it’s spent in misery.
How could you tell if your instincts were just hope in disguise, and if your hope was really desperation parading as possibility?
What are we fighting for? What are we killing for? What do you see when you look into the future?
It was Kizzy’s first kiss and maybe it was her last and it was delicious.
As long as you’re alive, there’s always a chance things will get better.