“We kill all the caterpillars, then complain there are no butterflies.”
“What's the Future? It's a blank sheet of paper, and we draw lines on it, but sometimes our hand is held, and the lines we draw aren't the lines we wanted.”
“I live in the light,
But carry my dark with me.”
“Life's harder, the deeper you feel things, was all I could think as I put the books away. Feelings, who needs them? Sometimes they're like a gift, when you feel love or happiness. Sometimes they're a curse.”
“When you're scared you can either give in to the panic and let your mind fall apart, or you can take charge of your mind and think brave.”
“Life's harder, the deeper you feel things.”
“My pen.’ Funny, I wrote that without noticing. ‘The torch’, ‘the paper’, but ‘my pen’. That shows what writing means to me, I guess. My pen is a pipe from my heart to the paper. It’s about the most important thing I own.”
“Let no stranger intrude here, no invader trespass. This was ours, and this we would defend.”
“The world was quickly forgetting us. And there was little news to report.”
“One of the things I find strangest and hardest is that we were having such conversations. We should have been talking about discos and electronic mail and exams and bands. How could this have been happening to us? How could we have been huddled in the dark bush, cold and hungry and terrified, talking about who we should kill? We had no preparation for this, no background, no knowledge. We didn’t know if we were doing the right thing, ever. We didn’t know anything. We were just ordinary teenagers, so ordinary we were boring. Overnight they’d pulled the roof off our lives. And after they’d pulled off the roof they’d come in and torn down the curtains, ripped up the furniture, burnt the house and thrown us into the night, where we’d been forced to run and hide and live like wild animals. We had no foundations, and we had no secure walls around our lives any more. We were living in a strange long nightmare, where we had to make our own rules, invent new values, stumble around blindly, hoping we weren’t making too many mistakes. We clung to what we knew and what we thought was right, but all the time those things too were being stripped from us. I didn’t know if we’d be left with nothing, or if we’d left with a new set of rules and attitudes and behaviours, so that we weren’t able to recognise ourselves any more. We could end up as new, distorted, deformed creatures, with only a few physical resemblances to the people we once were.”
“A bad black horse steals
Steals into my head
And moves across the landscape
Of my mind, while I sleep.
He does what he likes in there.
Next day I feel
The damage.
In the quiet mist
I watch her go.
It feels like snow.
There's a feeling that I get.
I walk back home
Sad and slow.”
“It was the world-without-adults daydream. In my dream I'd never quite figured out where the adults went but we kids were free to roam, to help ourselves to anything we wanted. We'd pick up a Merc from a showroom when we wanted wheels, and when it ran out of petrol we'd get another one. We'd change cars the way I change socks. We'd sleep in different mansions every night, going to new houses instead of putting new sheets on the beds. Life would be one long party.
Yes, that had been the dream.”
“Feelings, who needs them? Sometimes they're like a gift, when you feel love or happiness. Sometimes they're a curse.”
“Night started to fall, then it fell, till it was lying all over the ground.”
“Being brave is a choice you make. You've got to say to yourself: I'm going to think brave. I refuse to think fear or panic.”
“Death comes walking across the countryside swinging that scythe, and he might get you or he might not.”
“There is nothing to fear except the power you give to your own demons.”
“Come what will, I cannot, when I write, think always of myself and of what is elegant and charming in femininity; it is not on those terms, or with such ideas, I ever took pen in hand: and if it is only on such terms my writing will be tolerated, I shall pass away from the public and trouble it no more. Out of obscurity I came, to obscurity I can easily return.”
“It can be stolen, but never bought.
It can be given, but never taken.
It can be stepped on, but cannot walk .
It can fly, but has no wings.
It can sing, but has no voice.
It can be broken, but still it work s.
It can be left, even while it follows.
And though it’s easily commanded, it can never, ever be demanded.”
“I had great pity on Ansje, because she always acted very happy, but I believed that it was really a front. I could see through it. Inside she was crying because she was really very sad. You pity people like that -- the ones who try to lie to themselves -- because they suffer so much and don't face reality.”
“Claire elbowed him. 'You must be feeling better.'
'Seems like it, doesn't it?'
That, she thought with a sudden rush of disquiet, was not an answer. It was an evasion. 'Are you feeling better?'
'If by better you mean much more aware than I ought to be of the fact that there are freaking vampires all over the place, then yes, much better. But I'm dealing with it.'
'If you can't, will you let me know?'
'Sure thing. I'll let out a howl.'
'Not funny.'
'Well, in my defense, it wasn't really meant to be. I mean, I might literally howl.”
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