Catherynne M. Valente Quotes
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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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But luck can be spent, like money; and lost, like a memory; and wasted, like a life.
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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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All children are required to attend School, which is like a party to which everyone forgot to bring punch, or hats, or fiddles, and none of the games have good prizes.
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I am not a little girl anymore, dazzled by your magic. It is my magic, now, too.
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Readers will always insist on adventures, and though you can have grief without adventures, you cannot have adventures without grief.
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"You look like a winter night", he had told her when he had given it to her. "I could sleep inside the cold of you".
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It's Survival of Them Who's Best at Nicking Things, girl!
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But I am a sly and wicked narrator. If there is a secret to be plumbed for your benefit, Dear Reader, I shall strap on a head-lamp and a pick-ax and have at it.
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Did I not come to you on my knees with a kingdom in my hand?
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I have all the books I could need, and what more could I need than books?
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She is dead. Almost certainly dead. Nearly conclusively dead. She is, at the very least, not answering her telephone.
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Everything in the world, it turns out, is escapable except economy.
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A house is a kind of box you put a girl in.
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You are not the chosen one, September. Fairyland did not choose you – you chose yourself.
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All tamed things are made a bit ridiculous in the process, you know.
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“I will keep it safe for you," Saturday whispered, barely brave enough to say it.
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September shut her eyes several times and opened them again, just to be sure, just to be certain she was back in Fairyland, that she wasn’t simply knocked silly by her fall.
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The storm ate up September’s cry of despair, delighted at its mischief, as all storms are.
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Oh, aren't you just the rottenest wet blanket whoever spoiled a sport.
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He's not a lad that likes to stand on his feet.
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That's your first hint that something's alive. It says no.
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That’s what a map is, you know. Just a memory.
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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.