But who could teach daughters how to fly? Parents were by definition earthbound, grub eaters, feet in their own coffins, by dint of being parents.
But she woke up just then, and in the moonlight covered herself with a blanket. She smiled at him drowsily and called him Yero, my hero, and that melted his heart.
But now? Now? Children in the twentieth and this early twenty-first century hated the Alice books, couldn't read them, and why should they? Their world had strayed into madness long ago. Look at the p...
Before catechisms can instill a proper humility, small children know the truth that their own existence has caused the world to bloom into being.
And in the cave there lived a wicked old witch. Did she ever some out? Not yet.
Always the bridesmaid , never the bride. Always the godfather, never the god.
All these last months he had begun to talk about Sarima and the family as if they were ghosts, hiding just around the curve of the spiral staircase in the tower, suppressing giggles at this long, long...
All paths lead to the same place, and that place is whatever comes next.
After all, a book can be set aside for weeks, or for good. (Burned in the grate.) Alternatively, a story can be adored for centuries. But it cannot be derailed. A plot, whether abandoned by a reader o...
After all is said and done, said the Dormouse, there is nothing to be done. Or said.
A plot, whether abandoned by a reader or pursued rapturously, remains itself, and gets where it is headed even if nobody is looking. It is progressive and inevitable as the seasons. Winter
A mother to a reckless, feckless, one-off of a child—but what child isn’t?
The reasons just reassemble themselves in different patterns every time I think about it.
You'll be all right,' Elphaba said, 'now you're a seasoned traveler. This is just the return leg of a voyage you already know.' She put her face against Glinda's and kissed her. 'Hold out, if you can,...
Wishing is the beginning of imagination. They practice wishing when they are young things, and then -when they have grown - they have a developed imagination. Which can do some harm - greed, that kind...
When you can't die, she thought, everything sounds like a clock ticking.
What is there that makes my life worth preserving?I love you, said Elphaba.So that’s that then, and that’s it, he answered her, and himself. And I love you. So I promise to be careful.Careful of us bo...
There's no need to hear gossip about government. It'll only give you gas.
The world rarely shrieks its meaning at you. It whispers, in private languages and obscure modalities, in arcane and quixotic imagery, through symbol systems in which every element has multiple meanin...
The thing about a mirror is this: The one who stares into it is condemned to consider the world from her own perspective. Even a bowed mirror works primarily by engaging the eyes, and she who centers...