“There comes a day when every girl loses the stars in her eyes. And then she can see clearly.”
“The people who love you will guide you like bright lights into the other worlds.”
“Funny how quickly the mind moves, but how slowly time does when you’re in pain.”
“She heard Rowan awake with a start before he reconciled himself to his surroundings. His back scraped across the trunk of the tree as he slid sideways--trying to see around the branch she was sitting on to get a look at her.
"Are you awake?" he asked, his voice still rough from sleep.
"Yeah."
"Did you sleep at all?"
"No." She heard him mumble something to himself and decided to cut him off before he could scold her again. "My butt did, though. Slept like a log all night."
"Well, obviously, your butt has more sense than you do."
"You're a funny man, Rowan whatever your last name is."
"Fall."
"I'd rather not."
She managed to get a tiny chuckle out of him, which she considered a huge achievement. Rowan stood up on his branch, bringing his head level with Lily's, and started to untie her. His lips were still pursed in a near smile.
"My name is Rowan Fall.”
“Lily opened her hand and looked at her three willstones. Rowan had been right. She was changed forever.
Lily sat up and saw a glass of water on the bedside table. A tiny card was propped up against it. It said, THIRSTY? in bold uppercase letters. Lily realized that she'd never seen Rowan's handwriting before. She stared at it, sipping her water, memorizing every swoop and curve.
She swung her legs out of bed and noticed that she'd somehow struggled out of his robe while she slept. Rowan had left a stack of clothes on the floor next to her, with its own accompanying card that read NAKED? Lily laughed quietly to herself...”
“A crucible's craving is her mechanic's mandate.”
“All I know is that you cut off all of my hair and dyed it who-knows-what-color, and you used your pee to do it.”
“I remember what I must do, even if it makes me the villain of my own story”
“I'm a witch and witches burn.”
“It's a sauna in her," Lily complained. She flapped her hands, trying to wave a breeze into the robe Rowan had told her to wear to this afternoon's ritual instead of the silk slip. "What are we making today? Deep-fried witch?”
“Here, in this universe, what differentiated science from witchcraft was that scientists had fewer resources and couldn't magically manipulate the natural world by will alone.”
“Did you sleep at all?"
"No." She heard him mumble something to himself and decided to cut him off before he could scold her again. "My butt did, though. Slept like a log all night."
"Well, obviously, your butt has more sense than you do.”
“Yeah? Well, you and your snooty, all-knowing witches have never been to the moon. My people have, because it was there and it was a good thing to do," Lily said in her best Boston accent. "So bite my scientist-loving ass.”
“Worldfoam. I like that. It sounds fluffy.”
“You and Tristan are easing into the whole relationship thing, right? Taking it slow?" Juliet asked a little too casually.
"We have sex six time a day, and we're thinking of making a porno together," Lily said, poker-faced, while she rubbed almond oil on her bare legs. She glanced up to see Juliet glaring at her. "Yes! We're taking it slow. Maybe a little too slow.”
“They'd shared more than memories the night before. What they'd experienced was a communion.”
“Witchcraft and salt go hand in hand. Your body practically runs on it," he said, summing it up. "And I'm out of salt."
"I'll be fine. It's just a craving."
"When you crave something, it means you need it." He breathed a laugh and his eyes momentarily turned inward. "A crucible cravings is her mechanic's mandate.”
“If there were an infinite number of universes, did that mean that one of them had to be perfect? And if one of the was paradise, did that me that another one had to be hell?”
“I remember what I must do even if that makes me the villain of my own story.”
“Inness painted from memory, which is to say that he didn't paint what he saw, but what he remembered. There's a difference. He believed memory was a lens to the soul. It's not the details that matter - the veins on a leaf, say- so much as the implied detail, such as the changing light, the wind, the lone peasant in the distance the sense that something else is going on, some deeper possibilitly ....”
“I know for sure that you cannot give to everyone else and not give back to yourself. You will end up empty, or at best, less than what you can be for yourself and your family and your work. Replenish the well of yourself, for yourself.”
“We live, we love. These are the choices we are given, to open doors or to close them. It is all we have, and it is enough”
“In my student days, I detested Schopenhauer. Only later did I come to acknowledge the force of his idea that every relationship involving personal feeling laid one open to attack, and the more people I allowed to become close to me, the greater the number of ways in which I was vulnerable.”
“I thought about how this banknote had witnessed a moment of each one of those people’s lives. Maybe it had been at the scene of a murder, then passed from the murderer to a shopkeeper somewhere, then to a good person somewhere else.”
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