Catherynne M. Valente Quotes
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Where there is a Key, there is yet hope.
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I am selfish. I am cruel. My mate cannot be less than I.
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Over in the refrigerated section hang lies told so long ago and so often that they turned into the truth and get taught in history books.
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Where there's a labyrinth, there's a minotaur, and vice versa! I can't imagine a decent maze that would be caught dead without a minotaur.
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It is good that you ruined your face, because it brought you to me, but also because beautiful women rarely work strong magic.
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Magic does that. It wastes you away. Once it grips you by the ear, the real world gets quieter and quieter, until you can hardly hear it at all.
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He looked so sorry and miserable as he pushed me out the door. It stung. It always stings when there's this whole story going on and you're really just a B-plot walk-on who only got a look at three pages of the script.
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You humans, you know, whoever built you sewed irony into your sinews.
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I am sustained by Being Necessary.
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...For grace may only be found briefly, and always in the midst of madness.
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You can't trust just any old person who comes along with a hundred puffins and a pretty face!
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You are going to break your promise. I understand. And I hold my hands over the ears of my heart, so that I will not hate you.
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Do you know what a thirteen-year-old girl can do when she is alone and frightened and believes she is right?
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We are all dead. All equal. Broken and aimless and believing we are alive. This is Russia and it is 1952. What else would you call hell?
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All jobs are odd, or they would be games or naps or picnics.
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“Brother," he wept, "my heart is being cut in two. I cannot bear it." "Tscha!" said the Tsar of Birds. "Life is like that.”
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Bad luck relies on absolutely perfect timing.
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If there are spells, they have a right to weave.
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I was born a girl in a world of Branwells, but I shall be more than I am meant.
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I shall be as brave as a my Toad, he thought, for my Toad never hides under the bed when she is afraid of lightning or bats. She sticks out her tongue and eats them.
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“Don’t worry,” Marya whispered, kissing his forehead. “My old bones will follow yours soon enough.
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If enough lost things band together, even in the darkest depths, they aren’t really lost at all anymore.
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Because the opposite of fascism isn't anarchy, it's theater. When the world is fucked, you go to the theater, you go to the shine, and when the bad men come, all there is left to do is sing them down.
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You’re not in love if you keep your own heart bricked up behind your bones. You’re only playing.