The blue was gathered in her hand, and she could feel it quiver, as if it had been given breath and was beginning to live.
The Receiver was the most important Elder. Jonas had never even seen him, that he knew of; someone in a position of such importance lived and worked alone.
Take your pride in your pain. You are stronger than those who have none.
She fell asleep, and it was a sleep as thin as the night clouds, dotted with dreams that came and went like the stars.
Once she read a book but found it distasteful because it contained adjectives.
Mama was crying, and the rain made it seem as if the whole world was crying.
Kirsti sighed as Annemarie went to the breadbox in the kitchen. I wish I could have a cupcake, she said. A big yellow cupcake, with pink frosting. Her mother laughed. For a little girl, you have a lon...
Jonas, listening, thought suddenly about the bridge and how, standing there, he had wondered what lay Elsewhere. Was there someone there, waiting, who would receive the tiny released twin? Would it gr...
Jonas felt a ripping sensation inside himself, the feeling of terrible pain clawing its way forward to emerge in a cry.
If you were to be lost in the river, Jonas, your memories would not be lost with you. Memories are forever.
I'm going to give you the memory of a rainbow.
I mean, I wish I knew the right things to say to people. Sometimes I seem to just sit there.
Henry glared at Anastasia. 'You quit planning on a rich husband, Anastasia. You're gonna get rich on your own. You and me, if we husbands, fine. But we won't them. Like our mothers. My mom could do...
He looked as if it hadn’t occurred to him that it might not matter.
He gestured toward her twisted leg. Like you. Some don't walk good. Some be broken in other ways. Not all. But lots. Do you think it maken them quiet and nice, to be broken?
Frie Danske
Danes had on their windows; the entire city had to be completely darkened at night. In a nearby tree, a bird was singing; otherwise it was quiet. It was the last night of September. Go, now, and get i...
But this room’s walls were completely covered by bookcases, filled, which reached to the ceiling. There must have been hundreds—perhaps thousands—of books, their titles embossed in shiny letters.
But they don't want change. Life here is so orderly, so predictable-so painless. It's what they've chosen.
But the aircraft a year ago had been different. It was not a squat, fat-bellied cargo plane but a needle-nosed single-pilot jet.