Catherynne M. Valente Quotes
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It is such hard work to keep your heart hidden! And worse, by the time you find it easy, it will be harder still to show it.
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I could not say what creeps and whispers through the branches and down the threaded Road, but I hear it, and I am not afraid.
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It's not nihilism is there's really no point to anything.
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It is true that novelists are shameless and obey no decent law, and they are not to be trusted on any account, but some Mysteries even they must honor.
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He’ll never be good if he can’t choose to be nasty. It’s the choice that makes the good.
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Rich girls aren’t criminals, don’t you know? They’re just troubled, poor things.
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Still, she was not sorry. If the world is divided into seeing and not seeing, Marya thought, I shall always choose to see.
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Temperament, you'll find, is highly dependent on time of day, weather, frequency of naps, and whether one has had enough to eat.
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Oh, quit that. Blushing is for virgins and Christians.
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A mother's like a poison made for only one soul.
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It's Latin, which is an excellent language for mischief-making, which is why governments are so fond of it.
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A stepmother is like a bullet you can't dig out. She fires true and she fires hot and she fires so quick that her metal hits your body before you even know there's a fight on.
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The nearness of him crushed her, like being held by the sun.
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These words were small and they only meant what they said, not how they felt before he said them. He nearly wept with the frustration of it.
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I ate all of my husbands. First I ate their love, then their will, then their despair, and then I made pies of their bodies – and those bodies were so dear to me!
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It takes energy for new roads to diverge in new woods, and no energy is spent with complete efficiency, without waste. Where wood has burned, there will be ash. The waste product of the constantly dividing multiverse is a fine, drifting mist of regret, and no wormhole has ever starved.
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Be nice to Fairyland. She is old and tender of heart and when her feelings are hurt, she cries volcanoes.
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She long ago learned that if she waited and blinked and behaved like a pupil, eventually someone would lecture her on something.
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You are a Witch. I am a Prince. In all the books, where there is a Witch and a Prince there is a way.
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He does everything a Marshal does but twice as hard, twice as dirty, and without the soft and cushioning arms of the government to wipe his tears.
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In both marriage and war you must cut up the things people say like a cake and eat only what you can stomach.
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I know real dirt looks nothing like this. Nothing like soft blood flecked with black bone.
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After so long keeping to herself and tending her secret quietly, all these words just bubbled up out of her her like cool golden champagne.
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But I’ve brought you to the snow, and the snow is the beginning and the end of everything, everyone knows that.