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All coral in every world think of Australia the way that you and I think of Mesopotamia - it is the ancestral paradise of their civilization and they send it Valentines each February.
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Will Hilt to hand yet be restored? Take me up, thy mother's sword.
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This is what a grown-up looks like, thought September. Not like the grown-ups in my world who look sad and disappointed and grimy with work and bored with everything.
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When the aliens come, there’ll be one queue to fight them and one queue to fuck them, and the second one’ll be longer by light-years.
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Kid, nobody really gets anywhere in this life. Everybody just picks someplace to hunker down and barricade themselves in. Some of us just got better bricks than others.
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So a half-breed goatsnake, a Yith, and a Ghast walk into a bar.
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How else are you supposed to deal with people who like terrible things? Hit them with a shovel till they stop, that’s how.
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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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“Oh!" cried the young man. "A little deaf child! How sweet! We should adopt her and teach her to write symphonies. She'll be all the rage in town. I'll buy her a powdered wig and a tricorne!
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“Don’t worry,” Marya whispered, kissing his forehead. “My old bones will follow yours soon enough.
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But old women faced certain dangers in Fairyland, such as breaking a hip while riding a wild velocipede, or having everyone do what you say just because you had wrinkles.
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How long your hair has grown. You could strangle a man in it.
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How I adore you, Marya. How well I chose. Scold me; deny me. Tell me you want what you want and damn me forever. But don’t leave me.
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And honey, everybody eats art and drinks stories. It's the best drunk there is!
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As all mothers know, children travel faster than kisses. The speed of kisses is, in fact, what Doctor Fallow would call a cosmic constant. The speed of children has no limits.
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Marya pinned out her childhood like a butterfly. She considered it the way a mathematician considers an equation.
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Metamorphosis is the most profound of all acts.
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Memory is like that. It alters itself so that girls are always trapped under the earth, waiting in the dark.
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You’re better off - theatrical folk are nothing but a bundle of monologues and anxiety headaches.
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September drank in the starry sky with a longing and a tugging and a sigh. All the way up, to that enormous crescent in the black.
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We hold demonstrations and civil wars when inequities are discovered.
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Just you wait. Papa Koschei is coming, coming, coming, over the hills on his red horse and he's got bells on his boots and a ring in his poket and he knows your name, Marya Morevna.
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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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It's like Goguenar's Fourth General Unkillable Fact says: Everyone's always saying love is the element that binds the universe together, but that's a load of bollocks; It's convenience.