She couldn't disappoint the whole village. There were no wallscreens here, no newsfeeds or satellites bands, and touring soccer teams were no doubt few and far between. (...), that made stories a valu...
She carried a knife inside of herself now, one that was always cutting her. She could feel it every time she swallowed, every time her thoughts strayed from the splendor of the wild.
Maybe they didn't want you to realize that every civilization has its weakness. There's always one thing we depend on. And if someone takes it away all that's left is some story in a history class.
Lilt pulled away. I saw what he was doing, so I cleared a path for him. I helped him do it... She shook her head, tears tracking the dust off her face, and turned to stare at the fallen tower. Have we...
It didn't matter where, really. What mattered was the connection, the space formed between the two of the, a slice cut from the universe and made private and inviolable.
I don’t want to be ugly all my life. I want those perfect eyes and lips, and for everyone to look at me and gasp. And for everyone who sees me to think Who’s that? and want to get to know me, and list...
By plucking her petals you do not gather the beauty of the flower. —Rabindranath Tagore, Stray Birds
But doesn’t real love work the other way round?...... You start by thinking someone’s fabulous, and by the end of the piece you realize he’s a monster!
Barking machines! Dylan exclaimed. Didn't I tell you? I've never seen a beastie that couldn't get up on its own. Well, except a turtle. And one of my auntie's cats.Alek raised an eyebrow. And I'm sure...
All that glitters is not hovery.
She wasn’t so much a writer as a thief.
Writing fairies can get grumpy in a new house, Johari said. Like cats. Mine pissed on the pillows every night for a week after I moved up to New York.
What happens when perfection isn't good enough?
The flowers were so beautiful, so delicate and unthreatening, but they choked everything around them.
The early summer sky was the color of cat vomit. Of
She'd never have to cut herself again. She carries a knife inside herself now, one that was always cutting her. She could feel it every time she swallowed, every time her thoughts strayed.
She scanned the captives, looking for Shay and David. The familiar faces in the crowd were haggard, dirty, crumpled by shock and defeat, but Tally realized that she no longer thought of them as ugly....
Rex lost his specs.
Perhaps the logical conclusion of everyone looking the same is everyone thinking the same.
Nature can blow me.