Catherynne M. Valente Quotes
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What happens to the West happens to Snow White, which is to say they both turn into jokes.
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A tale may have exactly three beginnings: one for the audience, one for the artist, and one for the poor bastard who has to live in 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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Everything living has a mouth. Mouths bite and swallow; they talk; they taste. They kiss. A mouth is the main tool for living.
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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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'All little girls are terrible,' he admitted finally. 'but the Marquess, at least, has a very fine hat'
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In his own country, Death can be kind. But of an end
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One doesn’t behave at all the same way to a grandfather as to a bosom friend, to a professor as to a curious niece.
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I can't stop," the shark rasped. "If I stop, I shall sink and die. That's the way I'm made. I have to keep going always, and even when I get where I'm going, I'll have to keep on. That's living.
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We who were once living can guard you still, and love you, and keep you living safe and whole. Nothing ever truly dies.
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Perhaps memory is a thing that everyone involved has to work at, like stitching up a big quilt out of everything that ever happened to you.
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Music has more rules than math or magic and it's twice as dangerous as both or either.
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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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The burnt-off connectors and shadows where Ravan once filled my spaces - those, I think, are the sensations of grief.
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I’ve a devil of a habit for being right.
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It tasted like a shade of white near blue; it tasted like the idea of pearls; it tasted like a memory nearly grasped but lost at the last moment.
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... for my eeries, anything. Anything, forever, always.
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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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Rich girls aren’t criminals, don’t you know? They’re just troubled, poor things.
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I chose you," he said simply. "All of the fish of me turned toward you at once.
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You will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast.
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I have not been in Fairyland nearly long enough to start crying, September thought, then bit her tongue savagely.
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No one is now what they were before the war. There’s just no getting any of it back.
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No, love, in real life you can get all the way to death and never have finished one single story.