Catherynne M. Valente Quotes
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"All money is imaginary," answered the Calcatrix simply. "Money is magic everyone agrees to pretend is not magic.
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Draw the world the way you want it. Draw it and it will be.
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So much light, sweet girl, begins in the dark.
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Bran felt terribly sorry for his sisters, but it was hardly his fault that the world was so determined to make girls suffer a great deal more than boys. He hadn’t built the world. It had nothing to do with him.
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We all just keep moving, September. We keep moving until we stop.
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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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You can’t kiss a girl into anything.
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Up to no good may mean up to something interesting!
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This is how you learn to see: You put together a crew. No one can see a damn thing clearly with only two eyes.
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Respect me. Be proud, and if you love me, a little afraid, because love so often looks like fear. We are alike. We are alike.
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I love you, and I am your wife, and I forgive you of all the sins of this world, all the sins we invented just to commit within our cave. I love you ... In a world without end. I love you.
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They were all very young, really, too young for all they had seen, but too old not to have seen it.
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But lost children always find each other, in the dark, in the cold. It is as though they are magnetized, and can only attract their like.
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I’ve always found chess to be a bit too much like real life to provide much enjoyment as a game.
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Honesty is such a nasty habit, dear. Like biting your nails.
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...the beginning is where the end gets born.
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I've always had enough, even if my enough and your enough are as different as an elephant and a minaret.
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I'm not lost, because I haven't any idea where to go that I might get lost on the way to. I'd like to get lost, because then I'd know where I was going, you see.
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You always trade blood for joy. It’s always a deal struck in the wet and the dark. Al didn’t make the rules. He just dances to the song that’s playing.
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The Heart of Fairyland is a story
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You are not the chosen one, September. Fairyland did not choose you – you chose yourself.
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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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I'm lonely, whispered Doctor Callow. Don't be. There's a million worlds to play with.
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Death hath no dominion.