“Sometimes love means letting go when you want to hold on tighter.”
“What does it mean when nightmares dream of peace? When shadows wish for light?”
“Talking won't change it. But sometimes it was what she wanted most, to tell someone; often, though, she just wanted to escape those horrid feelings, to escape herself, so there was no pain, no fear, no ugliness.”
“He was an answer to a question she'd forgotten to ask.”
“Do you ever wonder if what you look at is the same thing everyone else is seeing?'
He went even stiller at her side. 'Sometimes I'm sure it isn't the same...but that's not so bad is it? Seeing the world in a different way?'
Creative vision creates art' he motioned around the gallery 'that shows the rest of the world a new angle. That's a beautiful thing.”
“We are what we are, neither a good or as bad as others paint us. And what we are doesn't change how truly we feel, only how free we are to follow those feelings.”
“I'd stop anyone from taking that smile from you. I would, if I were allowed.”
“He didn't slam the door, didn't rage, didn't weep, he simply left.”
“It was the only way he knew to protect the court, the faery, and the only mortal who'd ever mattered to him.”
“I need to check in with Seth before I--" he burrowed his face into the side of her neck, his breath almost painfully warm on her throat--"give in to my unconscionable desire to put my hands on you properly.”
“In the end mortals always expired before faeries. They were such finite creatures. Their first heartbeat and breath were but a blink from death. To add the weight of nourishing his insatiable court in a time of peace was to hasten that unconscionably.”
“Going backwards is never an option.”
“Leslie?" Irial whispered. "What are you doing?"
"Choosing."
Tears were soaking the blanket under Leslie's face.
"I'm mine. Not anyone else's."
"I'm still yours, though. That won't ever change, Shadow Girl." And then he was gone, and her emotions crashed over her.”
“And sometimes you meet someone who doesn't see you any differently if you tell them. That is everything.”
“-"You won't like me if I'm cruel."
-"I don't like you now."
-"We don't lie."
-"I'm mortal, Irial. I can lie all I want to.”
“She turned so they were face-to-face and gave him back the words he'd offered her their first night together: "I survived. Isn't that what matters?”
“Belief is a powerful thing. If you believe you can…”
“You're not weak at all. Wounded, but that's nothing to be ashamed of.”
“She wanted something she didn't have words for- peace, numbness, something.”
“Safe wasn't quite what appealed to her right then. Safe wasn't how she felt. Invincible, in control, powerful- those words felt closer to true.”
“He'd given her his vow: to take care of her, to keep her from hurt or pain, from wanting for anything. Her leaving didn't negate his promises; they weren't conditional.”
“It wasn't the tattoo that had changed her, had given her repossession of her body. It was her actions, her choices. It was finding the path when it looked like there weren't any paths to be found.”
“You need to face what you're running from ”
“to not act is a choice too ”
“-"Leslie? What are you doing?"
-"Choosing. I'm mine. Not anyone else's."
-"I'm still yours, though. That won't ever change, Shadow Girl.”
“Getting ink felt right, like it would help her put her life in order, to move forwards. It was her body, despite the things that'd been done to it, and she wanted to claim it, to own it, to prove that to herself. She knew it wasn't magic, but the idea of writing her own identity felt like the closest she could get to reclaiming her life. Sometimes there's power in the act; sometimes there's strength in words. She wanted to find an image that represented those things she was feeling, to etch it on her skin as tangible proof of her decision to change.”
“I did survive. I still am. And it won't happen again.”
“She might scream when the nightmares found her, but not by choice, not when she was awake.”
“Creative vision creates art" - he motioned around the gallery - "that shows the rest of the world a new angle. That's beautiful thing."
"Or some sort of madness", she said.”
“THIS ISN’T CHINA
Hold me close
and tell me what the world is like
I don’t want to look outside
I want to depend on your eyes
and your lips
I don’t want to feel anything
but your hand
on the old raw bumper
I don’t want to feel anything else
If you love the dead rocks
and the huge rough pine trees
Ok I like them too
Tell me if the wind
makes a pretty sound
in the billion billion needles
I’ll close my eyes and smile
Tell me if it’s a good morning
or a clear morning
Tell me what the fuck kind of morning
it is
and I’ll buy it
And get the dog
to stop whining and barking
This isn’t China
nobody’s going to eat it
It’s just going to get fed and petted
Ok where were we?
Ok go if you must.
I’ll create the cosmos
by myself
I’ll let it all stick to me
every fucking pine needle
And I’ll broadcast my affection
from this shaven dome
360 degrees
to all the dramatic vistas
to all the mists and snows
that moves across
the shining mountains
to the women bathing
in the stream
and combing their hair
on the roofs
to the voiceless ones
who have petitioned me
from their surprising silence
to the poor in the heart
(oh more and more to them)
to all the thought-forms
and leaking mental objects
that you get up here
at the end of your ghostly life”
“It’s my last chance. You know it. I know it.”
“Surround yourself with good people: people who are going to be honest with you and look out for your best interests. —Derek Jeter THE”
“In those moments, which were eternal I assure you, I had no location in the universe, nothing to grasp for that minimum of security which every creature needs merely to exist without suffering from the sensation that everything is spinning ever faster on a cosmic carousel with only endless blackness at the edge of that wheeling ride. I know that your condition differs from mine, and therefore you have no means by which to fully comprehend my ordeals just as I cannot fully comprehend yours. But I do acknowledge that both our conditions are unendurable, despite the doctor's second-hand platitude that nothing in this world is unendurable. I've even come to believe that the world itself, by its very nature, is unendurable. It's only our responses to this fact that deviate: mine being predominately a response of passive terror approaching absolute panic; yours being predominantly a response of gruesome obsessions that you fear you might act upon.”
“With every movement the claustrophobia threatened to consume me, and several times I had to stop as the fear rang bells in my brain, making my entire body convulse.”
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