Beth Revis Quotes
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It's Elder who's my safe place. Elder's my home.
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Memories always kill nightmares.
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...So, I do what any reasonable person would do when faced with a crying girl. I get the frex out of there.
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Sometimes writing is hard. You know what’s not hard? Watching Netflix. That’s easy.
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She was a good person. She didn’t deserve to die. I don’t think it works that way.
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My heart stutters—not why? or how?—those are not the important questions. The really important question is: by whom?
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You want to just dump me in space? My voice is low, but not for long. It's not like I've done anything wrong! I didn't wake myself up, you know!
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He treats books like treasured, rare things, and I guess they are, but my father used to dog-ear books and read them until they fell apart, and I like his method better.
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I'm sorry. The two most inadequate words in the English language.
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We're not ignoring the problem, not really. We're all aware it's there, even Bo. We see the edges of this new Bo, this Bo who's special, different. We're not ignoring it. We're just carefully, carefully avoiding it.
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Don’t you understand? You are Elder. When you take my role as Eldest, you must dedicate your whole life to this one idea: you are the caretaker of every single person on the ship. They are your responsibility. You can never show weakness in front of them: you are their strength. You can never let them see you in despair: you are their hope. You must always be everything to everyone on board.
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The sea is a dangerous place because it makes you believe in forever.
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Images of broken light dance behind my eyelids. How could this giant lamp compare to the sun? Everything is wrong here. Shattered. Broken. Like the light. Like me. I never thought about how important the sky was until I didn’t have one. I am surrounded by walls. I have just replaced one box for another.
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I can see, for just a moment, his beating heart in his ribcage, and then that, too, withers and dies, the useless, blackened lump tapping against his ribs before plopping out of his body.
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I have no emotions. I just stand there, in the rubble of my life. This… this was my home. If it were a person, this would be a gaping chest wound, the kind no one can recover from.
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They'll never truly be able to comprehend how much was lost for their limitless sky.
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If you love someone – deeply, in as true a way as you can – you will get hurt. People leave us and love falls apart, and when it does, it hurts. It should hurt. How can you not hurt when what you love is gone?
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I am surrounded by death, inside and out, and all it does is remind me of how futile everything is, everything ever was.
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Power was passion. That hunger - it was desire. A voracious need and longing to consume, to become one.
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I feel the darkness inside me like a creature curled up in my chest, breathing smoke and fire. It is always there. It weighs on me. It's not contained by anything but my own skin. Sometimes it sleeps. Sometimes it doesn't.
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I wrote a book. It sucked. I wrote nine more books. They sucked, too. Meanwhile, I read every single thing I could find on publishing and writing, went to conferences, joined professional organizations, hooked up with fellow writers in critique groups, and didn't give up. Then I wrote one more book.
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I would trade all the stars in the universe if I could just have him back again.
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We can fight, and we can disagree, but I'm never going to let you walk away from me thinking I don't love you.
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I might have the whole world now, but it's not enough if I don't get to share it with her.