People always did like to talk, didn't they? That's why I call myself a witch now: the Wicked Witch of the West, if you want the full glory of it. As long as people are going to call you a lunatic any...
Night is brushed aside like so much cobweb. The day is wound up and begins even before the last haunted dreams, the last of the fog, those spectral and evanescent residues, have faded away.
Night-time is being brushed aside like so much cobweb. The day is wound up and begins even before the last haunted dreams, the last of the fog, those spectral and evanescent residues, have faded away.
Sometimes thought Liir-his first thought in weeks and weeks-sometimes I hate this marvelous land of ours. It's so much like home, and then it holds out on you.
A world emerging, daily, out of nothing, a world that we trust to resemble what we've seen previously. We should know better.
Her head had turned quickly away...Not to hide her tears but to soften the fact of their absence.
Le malheur est l'issue naturelle de la vie, et pourtant nous continuons à faire des bébés.
Old Flossie settle down on the other side of What-the-Dickens and dragged some handiwork out of a sack. She armed herself with two thorns shaped into knitting needles. A wodge of curlicued metallic sc...
We can’t leave just like that. Cat was appalled. Where can we find you if we need you again?[Baba Yaga] You can’t. Listen, Little Drear, I hate saying good-byes. I have a good strategy for avoiding th...
The momentum of the mind can be vexingly, involuntarily capricious.
The future reshapes the memory of the past in the way it recalibrates significance: some episodes are advanced, others lose purchase.
One never learns how the witch became wicked, or whether that was the right choice for her- is it ever the right choice? Does the devil ever struggle to be good again, or if so is he not a devil?
You can't be said to have properly established yourself in a place until you have been seen there.
Perhaps, thought Nanny, little green Elphaba chose her own sex, and her own color, and to hell with her parents.
In her time Nor Tigelaar had faced insurrectionists and collaborationists and war profiteers. She'd endured abduction and prison and self-mutilation. She'd sold herself in sex not for cash but for mil...
Thanks to our artists, we pretend well, living under canopies of painted clouds and painted gods, in halls of marble floors across which the sung Masses paint hope in deep impatsi of echo. We make of...
Galinda didn't see the verdant world through the glass of the carriage; she saw her own reflection instead. She had the nearsightedness of youth. She reasoned that because she was beautiful she was si...
To the grim poor there need be no pourquoi tale about where evil arises; it just arises; it always is. One never learns how the witch became wicked, or whether that was the right choice for her--is it...
They'd never been lovers, of course, not in the physical sense. But they'd been lovers as most of us manage, loving through expressions and gestures and the palm set softly upon the bruise at the nece...
Come what may and hell to pay.