Hannah Neuheisel > Quotes

“You’re going to get caught,” he’d told her more than once.

“Might be interesting,” she’d say. “I’ve always wondered if I could break out of a jail cell.”
― Hannah Neuheisel, Oddities

“Fuck Micky.”

“I didn’t know you were into that, but even you could do better than Micky.”

“Screw you, Erin.”

“Better, but I’m out of your league. I’m not into the sad orphan look like Caroline is.”
― Hannah Neuheisel, Oddities

“Words were interesting things. Everything could become one slow, discombobulated minute after something was said. Things could get a little brighter or a little sadder. Heartbeats could speed up. Wars were started over something that was said—a threat spat out from angry lips, a promise of fortune beyond measure lulled out in the midst of a country’s height. They could kill. They could maim. They could shred a person to pieces if one only knew where to aim their blows. And those you loved always knew where your most tender spots were.”
― Hannah Neuheisel, Oddities

“The problem with Caroline and Jackson hadn’t been that they didn’t love each other enough. The problem was that they mistook abuse and rage and obsession for love. They were never taught the difference, and by the time they were old enough to understand, they didn’t know how to change it.”
― Hannah Neuheisel, Oddities

“Why is the inn on fire?” Caroline finally asked, not really looking at either Erin or River.
A pause. “That . . .” Erin waved a hand flippantly. “That might be my fault.”
Caroline looked at him. “Probably,” he amended. “It’s really a funny story. It involves alcohol and a goat.”
― Hannah Neuheisel, Oddities

“Just look at her,” Erin cooed, holding up the little white fluff—Maybell, Erin had called it—and moving some of the white fur out of its face so Caroline could get a clear look at its giant, beady eyes. “How can you say she can’t come along? She’s precious.”
“She’s going to either get killed or left behind,” Caroline said, watching as the thing—Maybell, she reminded herself—attempted to desperately jump out of Erin’s arms. It had been trying to be put down since the moment they’d all gathered outside. “And I refuse to pick up after the mutt.”
“Mutt!” Erin scoffed indignantly. “I’ll have you know Maybell’s a purebred.”
“Of what? A rat?”
― Hannah Neuheisel, Oddities