Catherynne M. Valente Quotes
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A father is nowhere near as valuable as a spoon.
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What happens to anything beautiful? Viy ate it up.
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I have to know, I have to or else you will just rule me until the end of everything because you know and I do not.
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Tamburlaine's house seemed more a place where books kept their people than where people kept their books.
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No good thing can last forever, because people are terrible and we have this feeling, we all have this feeling, that if not for that essential terribleness we could have gotten further by now. Done better. Done more.
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They were all whispers now, the two of them, conspirators and thieves.
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What is the world but a boxing ring where fools and devils put up their fists?
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A good, solid, beefy lie is too heavy to stand on its own. It needs smaller, quicker, more complicated lies to hold it up.
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Don't you know how far women stretch?
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He considers it for a moment and spits out the seeds, which sprout, quickly, into tiny junk blossoms sizzling with recursive algorithms. The algorithms wriggle through thorny vines, veins of clotted pink juice.
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Ragtime plinking, glasses clinking, choruses getting sung with only half the lyrics right, giggles bubbling over like a tower of champagne. It's a party, shaking down the dawn.
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She smelled like accounts receivable. She looked like old money.
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The smell of loving is a difficult one to describe, but if you think of the times when someone has held you close and made you safe, you will remember how it smells just as well as I do.
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Time is communal, Marya Morevna, the most purely communal of all commodities. It belongs to us all equally.
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She had a highly developed sense of humor which in some lights looked a bit like a sense of justice.
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That’s the only way to look at things, I always say,” propounded the Duke. “Slantways, sideways, and upside down.”
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Children are natural practitioners of the Queer and the Questing, for childhood is nothing but a quest through a queer country. Of course, they often have a good deal of trouble with the Quiet.
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I don't know why you would even bring up the Internet. The xeno-intelligence officer responsible for evaluating your digital communication required invasive emergency therapy after an hour's exposure.
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It's a dreadful world with only your own heart to drive you.
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“First Law of Heroics.” The Monaciello grinned up at a confused September. “Someone has to tell you it’s impossible, or the Quest can’t go on."
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I am selfish. I am cruel. My mate cannot be less than I.
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Let us say I am something like a witch, and something like a jester, and something like a mother.
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They leave when it’s over, exeunt, pursued by a bear with an empty porridge bowl.
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A house, a carriage, a balloon, a ship, a racing stallionocerosupine! Is that a thing? It sounds like it ought to be, so let’s say it is!