Staring at herself in the mirror, she found that she’d lost the ability to see herself through her own eyes. She was only what humans would see. Not a girl or a woman or someone in between. They wouldn’t see her loneliness or fear or courage, let alone her humanity. They would see only obscenity. Calamity.
Let’s just get this out of the way so I can relax. Karou, your friends aren’t going to eat us, are they?” No, Karou thought. They are not. She whispered back, “I don’t think so. But try not to look delicious, okay?” She was rewarded with a snort from Zuzana. “That poses a problem, seeing as how we are totally delicious.
Having hope was like dangling himself over a chasm and putting the rope in her hands. She could annihilate him if she wanted to.
And they hooked their fingers around its slender spurs, and pulled.
She was young and lovely and surprised and dead.
I wasn’t there to protect you,” he said. “I should never have left you there with him – ” “I protected myself,” Karou cut in.
The venom sang in him, and he was something more than human. He was a whirlwind. He was a god.
If there is a sphere where ‘angels’ dwell, is it a matter of semantics, whether we choose to call it Heaven?
Plants... dreamed they were birds... and they found rich soil and sweet seas and plants that dreamed they were birds and drifted up to the clouds on leaves like wings.
But my family has always stuck to fabrication, with the idea that you can be decent at two high art forms or you can excel at one. We excel. Excellently.
I’m not a dream,” said Sarai. There was bitterness in her voice. “I’m a nightmare.
Dream up something wild and improbable.
Strange the dreamer,” they called him. “That dreamer, Strange.
Pentru ca, dintre toate lucrurile de pe lume, aceasta era dorul ei cel mai mare de orfana : dragostea.
And... a bed. A bed and a blanket to cover them, a blanket that was theirs together.
Strange the dreamer – library stowaway and scholar of fairy tales – had never been thirstier, or more full of wonder.
He’d had to watch Madrigal die, and he hadn’t understood the fervor – the ecstasy – of the crowd. He hadn’t understood why the only one who mourned her was the enemy, driven to his knees and bloody from torture.
Dorul ei de dragoste o facea sa se simta ca un pisoi care se invartea mereu printre glezne, mieunand Mangaie-ma, mangaie-ma, uita-te la mine, iubeste-ma .
They marked his first consideration that there might be other ways of living than the one he knew. Better, sweeter ways.
Once you know magic is real, it’s really hard to remember what it was like not to know.