Catherynne M. Valente Quotes
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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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We hold demonstrations and civil wars when inequities are discovered.
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"I think I look a little like a pumpkin,” whispered September, secretly delighted. “I’m all green and orange.
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How long was it, between the time when you were happy, and the time when you wanted to kill him?
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I said: I could be a wolf for you. I could put my teeth on your throat. I could growl. I could eat you whole. I could wait for you in the dark. I could howl against your hair.
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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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If there are spells, they have a right to weave.
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She still longed for the best heights of magic, to see dragons and mermaids, to see the naked world.
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I do not serve your personal issues, Morevna. I serve the People, and the People will have crimes against their body answered. You fought at Leningrad. So did I. Why should he be spared?' 'Somebody ought to be.
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You’re better off - theatrical folk are nothing but a bundle of monologues and anxiety headaches.
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If he lost everything else, pride, priapism, and producer credit, Decibel Jones would never, never give up his swagger.
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But even the wisest of men may die, and that is especially true when the wisest of men has a fondness for industrial chemicals.
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You can't blame a book for its story.
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“Don’t worry,” Marya whispered, kissing his forehead. “My old bones will follow yours soon enough.
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There is no end and no beginning. There is only we two, alone in the dark, for always.
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In a city by the sea that was certainly never called anything so bourgeois as St. Petersburg, there stood a long, thin house on a long, thin street.
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Morality is more dependent on the state of one's stomach than of one's nation.
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Where there is a Key, there is yet hope.
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Every person draws a map that shows themselves at the center. But that does not mean that no other countries exist.
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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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Some small ones learn to stitch together a Coat of Scowls or a Scarf of Jokes to hide their Hearts. Some hammer up a Fort of Books to protect theirs.
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Everything is always happening all at once, in the present tense, forever, the beginning and the end and the denouement and the remaindering.
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The grass and the rivers and the stones and women and horses and more Stars and men and clouds and birds and trees came dancing through the afterbirth of the Mare
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So most people go around with grimy machinery, when all it would take is a bit of spit and polish to make them paladins once more, bold knights and true.