Indigo Starcroft > Indigo's Quotes

“Do you think anyone's going to remember us? Who remembers those who were never born, yet live anyway?”
― Olga Ravn, The Employees

“Where have you been?" she cried. "Damn you, where have you been?" She took a few steps toward Schmendrick, but she was looking beyond him, at the unicorn.

When she tried to get by, the magician stood in her way. "You don't talk like that," he told her, still uncertain that Molly had recognized the unicorn. "Don't you know how to behave, woman? You don't curtsy, either."

But Molly pushed him aside and went up to the unicorn, scolding her as though she were a strayed milk cow. "Where have you been?" Before the whiteness and the shining horn, Molly shrank to a shrilling beetle, but this time it was the unicorn's old dark eyes that looked down.

"I am here now," she said at last.

Molly laughed with her lips flat. "And what good is it to me that you're here now? Where where you twenty years ago, ten years ago? How dare you, how dare you come to me now, when I am this?" With a flap of her hand she summed herself up: barren face, desert eyes, and yellowing heart. "I wish you had never come. Why did you come now?" The tears began to slide down the sides of her nose.

The unicorn made no reply, and Schmendrick said, "She is the last. She is the last unicorn in the world."

"She would be." Molly sniffed. "It would be the last unicorn in the world to come to Molly Grue." She reached up then to lay her hand on the unicorn's cheek; but both of them flinched a little, and the touch came to rest on on the swift, shivering place under the jaw. Molly said, "It's all right. I forgive you.”
― Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn

“I look like a human, and feel the way humans do. I consist of the same parts. Perhaps all that's needed is for you to change my status in your documents? Is it a question of name? Could I be human if you called me so?”
― Olga Ravn, The Employees: A Workplace Novel of the 22nd Century

“Love isn't some scarce resource to battle over. Love can be infinite, as much as your heart can open.”
― Xiran Jay Zhao, Iron Widow

“I am but paper. Brittle and thin. I am held up to the sun, and it shines right through me. I get written on, and I can never be used again. These scratches are a history. They’re a story. They tell things for others to read, but they only see the words, and not what the words are written upon. I am but paper, and though there are many like me, none are exactly the same. I am parched parchment. I have lines. I have holes. Get me wet, and I melt. Light me on fire, and I burn. Take me in hardened hands, and I crumple. I tear. I am but paper. Brittle and thin.”
― T.J. Klune, The House in the Cerulean Sea

“The magician stood erect, menacing the attackers with demons, metamorphoses, paralyzing ailments, and secret judo holds. Molly picked up a rock.”
― Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn

“You can’t shoot me; I’m rich!” Yizhi slips through the opening created.”
― Xiran Jay Zhao, Iron Widow

“A dog lives for you. A cat just lives with you.”
― Abraham Verghese, The Covenant of Water

“Roses would be annoying weeds if the blooms never withered and died. Beauty resides in the knowledge that it doesn’t last.”
― Abraham Verghese, The Covenant of Water

“Sometimes you can't really tell when you are happy until it is over and you are thinking about it later”
― Lemony Snicket, Poison for Breakfast

“if you told me to describe myself in one word, it would be “not very good at following directions.”
― Lemony Snicket, Poison for Breakfast

“Zeno was an ancient Greek philosopher who ended up being tortured by people who didn’t like his ideas. Nowadays philosophers are hardly ever tortured, because most people ignore them completely,”
― Lemony Snicket, Poison for Breakfast

“Magnus did not have enormous respect for the Law, but if he was breaking it he wanted to look good doing it.”
― Cassandra Clare, The Bane Chronicles

“What kind of books does Ms. Amelia collect?” “Oh, entirely pornography,” Mosscap said. “It was very educational.”
― Becky Chambers, A Prayer for the Crown-Shy

“And so it goes...”
― Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

“Never be ashamed of a scar. In the end, scars tell the story of our lives, everything that hurt us, and everything that healed us.”
― Mitch Albom, The Little Liar

“The truth of love is that when it fades away, you don’t really care less. You don’t care at all.”
― Mitch Albom, The Little Liar

“We deserve to have our wrongdoing represented as much as our heroism, because when we refuse wrongdoing as a possibility for a group of people, we refuse their humanity.”
― Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House

“Abusers do not need to be, and rarely are, cackling maniacs. They just need to want something and not care how they get it.”
― Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House

“We can’t stop living. Which means we have to live, which means we are alive, which means we are humans and we are human: some of us are unkind and some of us are confused and some of us sleep with the wrong people and some of us make bad decisions and some of us are murderers. And it sounds terrible but it is, in fact, freeing: the idea that queer does not equal good or pure or right. It is simply a state of being—one subject to politics, to its own social forces, to larger narratives, to moral complexities of every kind. So bring on the queer villains, the queer heroes, the queer sidekicks and secondary characters and protagonists and extras. They can be a complete cast unto themselves. Let them have agency, and then let them go.”
― Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House

“The trouble with letting people see you at your worst isn’t that they’ll remember; it’s that you’ll remember. —Sarah Manguso”
― Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House

“I had a room to myself as a kid, but my mother was always quick to point out that it wasn't my room, it was her room and I was merely permitted to occupy it. Her point, of course, was that my parents had earned everything and I was merely borrowing the space, and while this is technically true I cannot help but marvel at the singular damage of this dark idea: That my existence as a child was a kind of debt and nothing, no matter how small, was mine. That no space was truly private; anything of mine could be forfeited at someone else's whim.”
― Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House