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“This is, after all, what we're fighting for, isn't it?

A second chance at joy.

- Ella”
― Tahereh Mafi, Defy Me

“I feel it, I feel my thin morals dissolving. I feel my flimsy, moth-eaten skin of humanity begin to come apart, and with it, the veil keeping me from complete darkness. There are no lines I won't cross. No illusions of mercy.

I wanted to be better for her. For her happiness. For her future.

But if she's gone, what good is goodness?

- Warner”
― Tahereh Mafi, Defy Me

“You've got to look out for number one. If you're really worried about not being spoiled, just pound on through that book guys. Just read the shit out of it.”
― Veronica Belmont

“Of course I'm trying to trick you!" Olaf cried. "That's the way of the world, Baudelaires. Everybody runs around with their secrets and their schemes, trying to outwit everyone else. Ishmael outwitted me, and put me in this cage. But I know how to outwit him and all his islander friends. If you let me out. I can be king of Olaf-land, and you three can be my new henchfolk."
"We don't want to be your henchfolk," Klaus said. "We just want to be safe."
"Nowhere in the world is safe," Count Olaf said.”
― Lemony Snicket, The End

“Crow shrugged. "What is death? The loss of a body? The loss of the animating spark? If that's the case, I am dead.
"Or is life the persistence of memory and emotion, volition and desire?" Crow went on, as if in a debate with himself. "If that's the case, I am very much alive.”
― Cinda Williams Chima, The Gray Wolf Throne

“He joined Jude in the kitchen and began making a salad, and JB slumped to the dining-room table and started flipping through a novel Jude had left there. "I read this," he called over to him. "Do you want to know what happens in the end?"

"No, JB," said Jude. "I'm only halfway through."

"The minister character dies after all."

"JB!"

After that, JB's mood seemed to improve.”
― Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life

“I had a chance to read Monte Christo in prison once, too, but not to the end. I observed that while Dumas tries to create a feeling of horror, he portrays the Château d'If as a rather benevolent prison. Not to mention his missing such nice details as the carrying of the latrine bucket from the cell daily, about which Dumas with the ignorance of a free person says nothing. You can figure out why Dantès could escape. For years no one searched the cell, whereas cells are supposed to be searched every week. So the tunnel was not discovered. And then they never changed the guard detail, whereas experience tells us that guards should be changed every two hours so one can check on the other. At the Château d'If they didn't enter the cells and look around for days at a time. They didn't even have any peepholes, so d'If wasn't a prison at all, it was a seaside resort. They even left a metal bowl in the cell, with which Dantès could dig through the floor. Then, finally, they trustingly sewed a dead man up in a bag without burning his flesh with a red-hot iron in the morgue and without running him through with a bayonet at the guardhouse. Dumas ought to have tightened up his premises instead of darkening the atmosphere.”
― Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, The First Circle

“And he had just sent her into the arms of her strongest potential allies: to the homeland of her mother, the kingdom of her cousin, and the domain of her aunt, Queen Maeve of the Fae. Celaena was the lost Queen of Terrasen.
Chaol sank to his knees”
― Sarah J. Maas, Crown of Midnight

“So whereâ€�?" asked Robin.

"I'm taking you to the Ritz for champagne," said Strike.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. It's why I'm wearing you a suit."

For a moment Robin simply looked at him, then she reached up and hugged him tightly. Surrounded by banked flowers, both remembered the hug they'd shared at the top of the stairs on her wedding day, but this time, Robin turned her face and kissed Strike deliberately on the cheek, lips to stubble.

"Thanks, Strike. This really means a lot."

And that, thought her partner, as the two of them headed away toward the Ritz in the golden glow of the early evening, really was well worth sixty quid and a bit of an effort . . .

Out of his subconscious rose the names Mazankov and Krupov, and it was a second or two before he remembered where he'd heard them, why they sounded Cornish, and why he thought of them now. The corners of his mouth twitched, but as Robin didn't see him smiling, he felt no compulsion to explain.”
― Robert Galbraith, Troubled Blood

“What if one of the times I Changed, when I turned back into myself, I didn't do it quite right? What if this isn't even my true face?”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel

“But at home, that same day he'd jumped into the fountain, he'd gotten so anxious, pacing around the living room listening to his parents try to calm him, that he suddenly just lost it completely and slapped his face. He immediately started crying, confused and guilty, looking up at his parents like he had no idea how it happened. And, really, that's the way it always was with the hitting. It would happen so fast, his body shaking to release the tension that built up from all the thoughts swirling through his mind and all the air he was having trouble breathing and all the loud beating of his own heart ringing in his ears. It had to get out and that was the path it chose. Slap. Instant relief.”
― John Corey Whaley, Highly Illogical Behavior

“MARY: My wrath! When do I ever get wrathful?

CATHERINE: It’s your particular kind of wrath. You don’t shout—you just get precise and icy.

MARY: That’s not wrath. I don’t think that counts as wrath.

DIANA: It’s Mary wrath. Your particular kind, as Cat said. Not that I’m scared of it, mind you. But it’s worse than being shouted at.

MARY: I have no idea what either of you are talking about. Alice, am I ever wrathful?

ALICE: Well, yes, actually. If you don’t mind my saying so, miss. When you learned what the Order of the Golden Dawn had done to me and Mr. Holmes�

CATHERINE: Oh no, you don’t! We have chapters to go before you can talk about that. Really, not one of you has any idea of narrative timing.”
― Theodora Goss, The Sinister Mystery of the Mesmerizing Girl

“Y mientras espero, la felicidad existe allí donde puedo conseguirla. [...] Soy más feliz que nada. No vayáis a olvidarme.”
― Adam Silvera, More Happy Than Not

“Where is the freedom in all this? Nowhere! There is no choice here, no final decision. All decisions concerning networks, screens, information or communication are serial in character, partial, fragmentary, fractal. A mere succession of partial decisions, a microscopic series of partial sequences and objectives, constitute as much the photographer's way of proceeding as that of Telecomputer Man in general, or even that called for by our own most trivial television viewing. All such behaviour is structured in quantum fashion, composed of haphazard sequences of discrete decisions. The fascination derives from the pull of the black box, the appeal of an uncertainty which puts paid to our freedom.
Am I a man or a machine? This anthropological question no longer has an answer. We are thus in some sense witness to the end of anthropology, now being conjured away by the most recent machines and technologies. The uncertainty here is born of the perfecting of machine networks, just as sexual uncertainty (Am I a man or a woman? What has the difference between the sexes become?) is born of increasingly sophisticated manipulation of the unconscious and of the body, and just as science's uncertainty about the status of its object is born of the sophistication of analysis in the microsciences.”
― Jean Baudrillard, The Transparency of Evil: Essays in Extreme Phenomena

“She was scared. I pictured the police knocking, and here I was with a girl I'd been fucking the morning my wife went missing. I'd sought her out that day--I had never gone to her apartment since that first night, but I went right there that morning, because I'd spent hours with my heart pounding behind my ears, trying to get myself to say the words to Amy:

I want a divorce. I am in love with someone else. We have to end. I can't pretend to love you, I can't do the anniversary thing--it would actually be more wring than cheating on you in the first place (I know: debatable.)

But while I was gathering the guts, Amy had preempted me with her speech about still loving me (lying bitch!), and I lost my nerve. I felt like the ultimate cheat and coward, and--the catch-22---I craved Andie to make me feel better,

But Andie was no longer the antidote to my nerves. Quite the opposite.
The girl was wrapping herself around me even now, oblivious as a weed.”
― Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

“All I ask the haters--and I, too, am one--is that they strive to perfect their contempt, even consider bringing it to bear on poems, where it will be deepened, not dispelled, and where, by creating a place for possibility and present absences (like unheard melodies), it might come to resemble love.”
― Ben Lerner, The Hatred of Poetry

“-Todo lo que he hecho en este año de la expiación ha terminado por dejar atrás sólo cenizas. Así que ríete cuanto quieras, chica. Ahora sé que no puedo deshacer lo que he hecho. Lo único que significa esta "R" es "ruina".
-En el fondo sabes que esta "R"no es la de "ruina". Cada vez que te la pones, haces lo mismo que tus hermanos. Luchas por lo correcto y honras el legado de quien te salvó de ti mismo. Esta "R" es la de "redención". Por eso quiero que sepas que... aunque ahora mismo te sientas como si estuvieras solo, y como si hubieras perdido a tu padre y a tus hermanos... has ganado una hermana.”
― Patrick Gleason, Robin â€� Son of Batman, Volume 1: Year of Blood

“—¿Cómo pudiste sonreír? —le preguntó Antón al silencio del monteâ€�. ¿Cómo pudiste? ¿Con qué fuerza? ¿Qué significaba la sonrisa para ti, para ustedes? No lo opuesto al llanto, eso es seguro, sino otra cosa. Sonreíste antes de correr junto a los tuyos con los brazos abiertos, como si alguien te estuviera esperando. Sonreíste con la lanza clavada en tu espalda. Lo sé, aunque no pude ver tu rostro. Quiero entenderte. No todo es dos, me decías. Pero yo no encuentro mejor modo de ordenar la realidad y entenderla. No soy arayé. Y ahora mismo, recordando tu muerte, soy incapaz de sonreír.”
― Liliana Bodoc, La profecía imperfecta

“There was a red stain across Gorst's eye above the flatbow bolt. But the other one rolled up towards Leo. It seemed, somehow, he still had that smile.
'Do you believe...' His voice sounded much like anyone else's, whispering. 'In redemption?'
'I don't fucking care.'
'You're young. Give it time.”
― Joe Abercrombie

“...This is Detective Miller. He died when Eros hit Venus and now he's a puppet of the protomolecule."
"Semi-autonomous," the alien said.
"Pleased to meet you."
"Likewise.”
― James S.A. Corey, Cibola Burn

“You're somethin' else, Hel. Know that? Dodged the sea toad, got rescued off that damned comet, bisected ol' Bron Elgar like a bagel out there on Cravat ... How the hell you get away from those damn fish down in the Glory Hole? Man, you got more lives than a New York alleycat.”
― Julian May, Orion Arm

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― Spoiler Dude

“We are spoilers and we are around spoilers!”
― Deyth Banger

“Hero knew that lust was one of the time-honored antidotes to sorrow, but that had never been her relationship to sex. Whatever sorrows lived in her heart were either too superficial to need such soothing, or too burrowed-in and settled to be eased out by something as mundane as coming for the fourth or fifth time against Rosalyn's fingers in the kitchen late at night when the restaurant was long closed; Rosalyn multitasking by leaving eggs and longanisa frying in an oily pan while grinding into Hero's lap, hand down her unzipped jeans, until Hero unclenched her teeth from Rosalyn's ear and said, Something's, uh, burning, and Rosalyn cursed and hopped off.”
― Elaine Castillo, America Is Not the Heart

“Whereas it is one of the rules of intrinsic reading that you should read an author's preface and introduction before reading his book, the rule in the case of extrinsic reading is that you should not read a commentary by someone else until after you have read the book. This applies particularly to scholarly and critical introductions. They are properly used only if you do your best to read the book first, and then and only then apply to them for answers to questions that still puzzle you. If you read them first they are likely to distort your reading of the book.
[How to Read a Book (1972), P. 172]”
― Mortimer J. Adler and Charles Van Doren

“The one, who fails in creating him, believes in spoiling others”
― P.S. Jagadeesh Kumar

“MARY: Hysterical mutism is most often associated with trauma, such as an assault of some sort. I learned that in Vienna, when we were discussing symptoms of madness before Diana wasâ€�

CATHERINE: Could you please not spoil the plot for our readers? You can talk about researching symptoms of madness all you want when I get to Vienna. I mean when you get to Vienna, later in the narrative.”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“MRS. POOLE: I would have done just the same as Alice, if I hadn’t remembered my training. A good servant never gives way to emotion, my father used to tell me when he was alive, bless his soul. You girls going so far away, and not knowing when you’d be back!

MARY: But we did get back safely in the end, Mrs. Poole.

MRS. POOLE: Eventually! But the worry I had along the way . . .

CATHERINE: Can you please do your best to not give away the plot? Like the fact that Mary eventually made it safely home . . . I won’t say whether or not the others did!

MARY: Oh please. If we hadn’t made it back, we wouldn’t be writing this book. The important thing is, what happened to us on the way?

CATHERINE: It’s unbelievable, what authors have to put up with from their own characters. Remind me why I agreed to do this?

MARY: Excuse me. We are not your characters, but fellow members of the Athena Club. And as to why you agreed . . . we need money, remember?

CATHERINE: Oh, right.”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“There is an essay on the language of the dying. The dying sometimes speak of themselves in the third person. I was not speaking that way. I said: I am bleeding. I am going to bleed to death. And I will be lucky if I die before he returns.

Give me my Scallop shell of quiet.

You know, they did not print the whole of the Indian song in the subway. Only a few lines. But I know the poem.

'It's off in the distance. It came into the room. It's here in the circle.'

I know the poem.

She knows the poem.”
― Susanna Moore, In the Cut

“Saya doakan semoga operasi Anda berjalan lancar. Bagaimanapun, saya ingin Anda tetap hidup.
Karena pengadilan telah menanti Anda.”
― Keigo Higashino, Malice