“Beauty, you can find it here if you look hard enough.”
“She knows that whispers can be useful. Sometimes they contain real information. But usually they're fairy tales and lies. This is the worst kind of whisper, the kind that draws you in, gives you hope.”
“We each have a story. They did this to us. There was no outside aggressor. They wanted an Apocalypse. They wanted the end. And they made it happen. It was orchestrated - who got in, who didn't. There was a master list. We weren't on it. We were left here to die. They want to erase us, the past, but we can't let them.”
“Our stories are what we have,” Our Good Mother says. “Our stories preserve us. we give them to one another. Our stories have value. Do you understand?”
“-Se supone que solo te quedarías con nosotros por tu propio bien, por razones egoístas. Me dijiste que tenías una.
-Y la tengo.
-¿Y cuál es?
-Tú eres mi razón egoísta.”
“Is it wrong to kill something that wants to kill you?”
“I prefer true over happy now.”
“Recuerdo que lo feo es lo que hace que lo bonito sea bonito.”
“—Es bonita la cicatriz —le dice el chico.
El corazón le da un vuelco y se lleva la cabeza de muñeca al pecho.
—¿Bonita? Es una cicatriz.
—Es una señal de haber sobrevivido.”
“I feel too much. It's like being drummed to death from within. You know?”
“So far, I should be calm and more specifically not like that...Anything else? Would you like to do surgery on my personality? How about open-heart surgery? I´ve got some tools”
“She glances back before stepping into the alley, and she catches her grandfather looking at her the way he does sometimes--as if she's already gone, as if he's practicing sorrow.”
“Los niños quieren a sus padres, aunque estos no se lo merezcan; es inevitable.”
“The world is frenzied—giving and taking.”
“For the first time in as long as he can remember, El Capitan is proud of his brother. "Damn it, Helmud! Shit! You’ve been planning to kill me!”
“Are there books about us or something?” This makes Pressia angry - the idea that this world is a subject of study, a story, instead of filled with real people, trying to survive.”
“These are the little things that people should really appreciate, simple pleasures.”
“I screamed. You told me not to.” He rubs at the soot on one hand with his thumb, then stares at it. “The dirt,” he says, his voice strangely peaceful.
“What about it?” she asks. “It’s dirty.”
“Maybe they just didn't have anywhere they needed to go.”
“The ugliness is what makes the beautiful things beautiful.”
“Así es cómo funciona el olvido: eliminando el pasado y no hablando nunca de él.”
“Sometimes you meet someone and you know that your life will be different from then on.”
“¿Siente él lo mismo que ella, un torbellino persistente que le aporrea el corazón? Con todo lo que ha perdido, lo único que sabe ahora es que a él no puede perderlo...en la vida.”
“She doesn't want his sympathy. She hates pity.”
“The sky is a bruise, only a storm will heal it.”
“The dirt,” he says, his voice strangely peaceful. “What about it?” she asks. “It’s dirty.”
“Why do they call me misanthrope? Because They hate me, not I them.”
“Oh," I whispered.
"Fuck, I'm not even close."
"To what?"
"The heart of you. You run so fuckin' deep, I'll never get there."
God.
"Lookin' forward to a lifetime of diggin', babe."
God!
"Now you're being sweet," I accused, my voice wobbly.
"Used to it yet?"
"No."
"You got a lifetime to get there too."
Seriously.
I could take no more.
"Shut up."
"I will, you kiss me."
"Rush and/or Tabby might be here any minute."
"I didn't tell you to go down on me.”
“Even if someone wasn't perfect or even especially good, you couldn't dismiss the love they felt. Love was always love; it had a rightness all its own, even if the person feeling the love was full of wrongness.”
“Now, are you happy? Have you finally achieved all you set out to do? What will you do next, little assassin, with no one left to see you?"
- One Thousand Journeys of Al Akhar, various authors”
“How that is so I don't know. How Mama and Daddy know me sixteen years and hate me, how a stranger meet me and love me. (131)”
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