Nikki Loftin > Quotes

“When my mom was alive, she read me stories every night. ”Use your imagination, Lorelei,” she’d say, “and your whole life can be a fairy tale.” I wanted that to be true. But I should have paid more attention to the fairy tales.”
― Nikki Loftin, The Sinister Sweetness of Splendid Academy

“Sometimes,' she said, after a few more seconds of silence, 'sometimes you got to act. You can't wait. You got to do what needs doing, before the world makes the decision for you.”
― Nikki Loftin, Wish Girl

“Turns out, it's not running away when no one notices you're gone.”
― Nikki Loftin, Wish Girl

“Annie's voice was low when she spoke again. 'You have to learn to let go when it's time.' She smiled her tight smile again, the one that had all sorts of pain and secrets behind it, and I had a dark thought in the middle of the sunny day. I didn't think she was talking about art anymore. I had a feeling she was talking about life. Her life.”
― Nikki Loftin, Wish Girl

“It's part of the art,' she explained, motioning toward the stream. 'The bringing together of the pieces, then the way they disappear when it time - the wind, or water, or gravity, whatever - makes the art lose its hold. It's not meant to stay forever. Some people,' and she paused. 'Some people wouldn't get it. They'd do all sorts of unnatural things to make it stay just like it was. Glue it, staple it, cement it. Even though that would ruin it.”
― Nikki Loftin, Wish Girl

“No,' she said again, 'I don't want to die. Not at all! But don't you see, I'm going to anyway?' She pointed at her chest. 'What is death, Peter? It's when you stop being you, right? When that something, that spark or whatever, goes out. And that's what's coming for me.”
― Nikki Loftin, Wish Girl

“music stopped, and I felt my heart constrict, like I’d lost something precious. I took another step, and another, until I could see through the leaves. That’s when I realized the singer was a person. A little girl. She was plain, with brown hair the same color as mine. But hers was ratted around her face like she’d never seen a brush, and she had dirt smeared across her cheeks and nose. Too thin, I thought, as she climbed over the edge of the bundled mess of sticks and out onto a branch to see me better. She was awfully close to the slender branches that I knew wouldn’t hold the weight of a kid, even a skinny little girl. I had to get her to come down before”
― Nikki Loftin, Nightingale's Nest