The Lost Plot (The Invisible Library #4) by Genevieve Cogman

31690144.jpg˜In a high-chaos alternate world like this one, narrative tropes had an unfortunate way of coming true. Unfortunately the traditional heroine-gets-trapped-in-household-full-of-vampires story seldom had a happy ending. At least, not for the heroine.˜

˜It was like being an insect under the magnifying glass. You were safe only for as long as the focus didn’t tighten upon you.˜

˜She occasionally daydreamed about being the sort of character in a story who could faint and leave everyone else to sort things out.˜

˜Irene made a private mental resolution that if she ever became a queen, her throne would incorporate a cushion. Also a convenient bookcase.˜

˜Irene had always thought that some awakenings were better than others. For instance, waking up in bed on a morning with nothing urgent to do, a pile of books next to you and a mug of coffee within arm’s reach could be described as good. Waking up in the deserted tunnels of the London Underground to the sound of distant werewolf howls was bad.˜


The House Of Unexpected Sisters by Alexander McCall Smith

36506825.jpg˜It is better to have a husband who knows what you are wearing than to have one who doesn’t even notice. ˜

˜The economy. That’s the problem. The economy. Everything is going well and people are very happy and then along comes the economy. Ow! And suddenly there are no jobs any longer and we’re back to where we started.˜

˜You might think they were just stories about cattle and the men who owned them, but of course they were much more than that: they were stories about Botswana and what it meant to be a Motswana.˜

˜A gearbox will not forget you if you are unkind to it. Gearboxes have a long memory – just like elephants.˜

˜It was possible, she thought, that one wept more for those one did not know than for those one did, because there was more to regret; to lose somebody without the chance of ever showing love was a heavy loss indeed.˜

˜Planting lawn in Botswana was like planting a cactus at the North Pole: it did not make sense.˜

The Boy Made of Snow by Chloe Mayer

35848661.jpg˜Most grown-ups never though about Trolls.˜

˜She remembered reading somewhere that in the original folk stories the evil maternal figures were the children’s real birth mothers. But over the years – and presumably before publication would be permitted in Victorian times – the stories were changed and the ‘wicked stepmother’ character was created. It was considered too horrific and unnatural to contemplate that a mother may not love her own child.˜

˜Grown-ups couldn’t sling a black cloth across the moon, much as they might like to.˜

˜Sometimes, I felt as thought I’d spent my entire life waiting for her to open her eyes and see me.˜

˜None of those words seemed to explain who she was. They just described her in relation to other people. I didn’t think of her that way. She was just herself.˜

˜What would happen if I stopped being silent? What would happen if I told one more story?˜

Future Home of the Living God by Louise Erdrich

36666194.jpg˜Maybe God has decided that we are an idea not worth thinking anymore.˜

˜”Indians have been adapting since before 1492 so I guess we’ll keep adapting.”
“But the world is going to pieces.”
“It is always going to pieces.”
“This is different.”
“It is always different. We’ll adapt.”˜

˜I have a sense of time folding in on itself, the same tranced awareness I experienced in the ultrasound room. I realize this: I am not at the end of things, but the beginning.˜

˜Early on, we heard about Womb Volunteers, but maybe there were not enough of them and so there is talk of a female draft now. I’ve overheard snippets of conversation. Women are being forced to try and carry to term a frozen embryo from the old in-vitro clinics. That or be inseminated with sperm from the old sperm banks.˜

˜Where will you be, my darling, the last time it snows on earth?˜

The Little Big Things by Henry Fraser

35268861– Apportioning blame is a way of trying to deflect the simple truth that anybody’s existence may undergo a sudden, irreversible, unavoidable change. – (JK Rowling)

– Acceptance came once I’d let everything go and I’d reached the bottom, and the only way to regain any sort of life was to turn my back on that darkness and move towards the light. And even to this day, there is no doubt in my mind that when it comes to all the many things I have had to face and do since my accident, accepting my situation was the single most difficult thing I did. –

– Frustration isn’t the opposite of gratitude…–

– It feels wrong to me that decisions about disability payments and disability opportunities are made, by and large, by those who don’t understand what it is like to be disabled. To me it’s straightforward –give someone the care they need and then they can contribute to society; give the bare minimum and they have to fight to survive and can’t contribute. It feels to me and many others that disabled people are being punished for being disabled, which feels like total injustice to me. –

– The past has happened and cannot be changed; it can only be accepted. Life is much simpler and much happier when you always look at what you can do, not what you can’t do. –

Full Wolf Moon (Jeremy Logan, #5) by Lincoln Child

32336166.jpg–Wasn’t no bear as killed those youngsters.–

–They’ve lived deep in the woods for too long. People do that, you know, and it changes them.–

–Face it: one reason to live deep in the woods, away from other people, would be defective socialization.–

–Many times, legends – no matter how outlandish they sound – have a grounding in reality.–

Killing Karoline by Sara-Jayne King

36126050.jpg– There are moments in the short years we are given when that which we may once have considered the riskiest path of all becomes the surest ground on which we can walk. –

– Adoption, I have found…creates gaps for assumptions, false imaginings and, ultimately, disappointments. –

– This is what happens to a person when they destroy themselves. They have to believe their own lies because to face the truth will kill them. –

– With every new day I’m in South Africa I’m ambushed by troubling realisations of the way things are here. I had no idea it was still so … bad. . . I’m met by a land still undeniably divided along colour lines, nowhere close to rebalancing its glaring inequalities. –

– I am a sister … but with conditions. –


Green Girl by Kate Zambreno

18505840– Perhaps without a mother one can no longer be young. –

– British food was the current catastrophe of Ruth’s life. –

– The agony of becoming. This is what she experiences. The young girl. She would like to be someone, anyone else. She wants, vaguely, to be something more than she is. But she does not know what that is, or how one goes about doing such things. –

–Celebrity is a drug we take, only afterwards we realize we are ugly and no one loves us. –

– Being a girl is like always being a tourist, always conscious of yourself, always seeing yourself as if from the outside. –

– He bought her the books he thought she should read, which were mostly the obvious books, because he wasn’t that well-read either, but liked to see himself as her brilliant tutor. –

Kafka on The Shore by Haruki Murakami

4929.jpg– Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. –

– Our responsibility begins with the power to imagine. –

– I never ask the impossible. That’s a colossal waste of time, don’t you agree? –

– Silence, I discover, is something you can actually hear. –

– While they’re still alive, people can become ghosts. –

– In truth, all sensation is already memory. –

– Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart. –

– The process of writing was important. Even though the finished product is completely meaningless. –

– Time weighs down on you like an old, ambiguous dream. You keep on moving, trying to slip through it. But even if you go to the ends of the earth, you won’t be able to escape it. –

Paris in Love by Eloisa James

12958655.jpg– I never did learn how to live in the moment, but I did learn that moments could be wasted and the world would continue to spin on its axis. –

– “I was going to buy you flowers because of the argument we had yesterday.” I looked at his empty hands. He shrugged. “There were too many to choose from.” –

– My father, my darling father of a thousand poems and more, has taken to watching leaves fall from their trees. Rather than knit those leaves into words, he simply allows them to fall. It’s a cruel fate: to watch without recounting the fall of the leaf; to grieve without creating anew; to age without describing it. –

– I remember that when my parents were newly married and very poor, my mother served a group of unwary poets a silky meat pâté – made from cat food. –

– My Parisian December went a long way to mending a crack in my heart caused by the words, “the biopsy was positive.” To eat as the French do is to celebrate life, even to indulge in it. –

– Luca says the fact that Alessandro and I launched into a battle during his sixteenth-birthday celebration has undoubtedly scarred him forever and he will never go on vacation with us again. In the meantime, he would like his computer back so that he can communicate with other teens whose parents are raving nuts. –

– Two tourists passed me, both holding small video recorders…I want to experience where I am and what I’m seeing, not view it only through the eye of a camera, for canned viewing later. –

– “Mama,” Anna said impatiently, “this is a novel! There has to be some crying.” –