“There are some things, once they are done, that we can never question, because if we did, we wouldn't be able to go on. And we have to go on, every single day.”
“Even the worst feeling, with time and familiarity, became tolerable.”
“Would you have this?” the Protectorat hissed at his son.
Rafael's gaze narrowed in a slow inspection while she stared defiantly back. Rafael's gaze faltered, shot briefly toward Leon, and then down. His answer was obvious: no.
And in spite of everything, in the face of all the other more important dangers that threatened her, it still stung that someone, some boy, found her ugly. Gaia burned with sudden hate for all of them.
The Protectorat saw. He smiled slightly.
“I thought not,” said the Protectorat, releasing her with a flick. He turned back toward his family. “I can't thrust her on any family I know, no matter what her genes are. She's a freak, not a hero. I'd rather make a hero out of Myrna Silk.”
Leon had been standing tensely throughout this exchange. “I'd take Gaia,” Leon said, his low voice resonating in the space.”
“What happened to your face?' he asked. 'When I was little, my grandmother was making candles and she had a big vat of hot beeswax in the backyard,' she said. 'I walked into the vat.' Usually that ended the conversation. 'I don't remember it,' she added. 'How old were you?' he asked. She tilted her face slightly, watching him. 'Ten months.' 'You were walking at ten months?' he asked. 'Not very well, apparently,' she said dryly.”
“When you decide something's right, there's nothing that can stop you from doing it.”
“There are many ways to be a criminal or hero. Don't forget that.”
“Be good, Gaia,” Capt. Grey told her, his voice grave. She still refused to look at him, but she could feel the heated flush of anger again in her cheeks. “Cooperate with the guards. For your own sake,” he continued.
“Be good yourself, Captain,” she said bitterly. “If you know how.”
“Though she could not see his shadowed eyes clearly, she sensed an emptiness in there that matched the controlled composure of his other features. It chilled her.”
“As she walked through the dark, stepping softly through the wet stones, she looked ahead to where the first cautious star managed to blink through the clouds.”
“She pivoted right, and sensed the vast, open space of the wasteland stretching before her under the opaque sky, a darkness as thin and final as the velvet lining of a shroud.”
“The tinkle of a wind chime stirred from over a window. Purple and white phlox cascaded cheerfully over the top of a nearby stone wall. Sunlight sifted through the weave of her straw hat, casting freckles of light on her nose and cheeks that shifted, out of focus, as she walked.”
“That was a sauna parlor, there, where I found you," the baker said. "They'll just think you were working the late shift."
Gaia was baffled. "A sauna parlor?"
She saw the baker and his wife hesitate.
The girl clarified in her open, childish voice. "He means it's a brothel."
The baked clapped a hand to his forehead.
"What?" the girl said. "It's a very discreet, high-class brothel.”
“Todos somos vulnerables, sobre todo cuando amamos a alguien.”
“She waited, unwilling to meet his eyes, hoping he would go on. When he didn't, the silence stretched between them like invisible cobwebs. In the dimmest part of her, she realized she might have wishes, too, elusive wishes that belonged more to a girl in a garden than they did to a captive.”
“You always have a choice, Gaia. You can always say no.” His voice was strangely hollow. “They might kill you for it, but you can always say no.”
“Unutma, hepimiz savunmasızız. Özellikle de birini seviyorsak.”
“Nothing was right with her parents gone, no matter how much she'd tried to go on without them.”
“You know what? You re pretty good at pushing people away from you. Did you know that? Maybe that's why you had only one friend growing up.”
“Once I'm gone, be careful who you trust. Use your wits, Gaia," the woman said. "Remember we're all vulnerable. Especially if we love someone."
"You've got that wrong," Gaia said, thinking of her parents.
"It's love that makes us strong.”
“It’s not that easy. You can make omelet from eggs, but not eggs from omelet.”
“Betia laughed a little, shaking her head. She leaned forward and kissed my cheek as she grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet. Her brown eyes glittered with a devil-may-care recklessness that warmed me to my toes. If it would make her smile that way, I would dance all night.”
“I know who didn’t kill her.” “Don’t”
“There was somewhere, if you knew where to find it, some place where money could be made like drawing water from a well, some Big Rock Candy Mountain where life was effortless and rich and unrestricted and full of adventure and action, where something could be had for nothing.”
“I first saw Lucas at the end of July last summer. Of course, I didn't know who he was then... in fact, come to think of it, I didn't even know what he was.
All I could see from the backseat of the car was a green-clad creature padding along the Stand in a shimmering haze of heat; a slight and ragged figure with a mop of straw-blond hair and a way of walking - I smile when I think of it - a way of walking that whispered secrets to the air.”
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