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  • #1
    Casey McQuiston
    “When they kiss, Alex can hear a half-remembered proverb from catechism, mixed up between translations of the book: “Come, hijo mío, de la miel, porque es buena, and the honeycomb, sweet to thy taste.” He wonders what Santa Chiara would think of them, a lost David and Jonathan, turning slowly on the spot.

    He brings Henry’s hand to his mouth and kisses the little knob of his knuckle, the skin over the blue vein there, bloodlines, pulses, the old blood kept in perpetuity within these walls, and he thinks, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, amen.
    Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue

  • #2
    “I don't give a damn what Joanne has to say Remus John Lupin is gay as the day is long, and I won't hear a word against it.”
    Henry
    tags: rwrb

  • #3
    Casey McQuiston
    “A curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back upon because of the absence there, that suddenly they’re inaccessible. You must invent an entirely new system.”
    Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue

  • #4
    Casey McQuiston
    “Love, Henry has found, has a way of growing backward. You fall in love with a person in the present, and then every person you've ever been gets to fall in love with every past version of them.”
    Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue

  • #5
    Alice Oseman
    “And I’m platonically in love with you.”
    “That was literally the boy-girl version of ‘no homo’, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
    Alice Oseman, Radio Silence

  • #6
    Alice Oseman
    “I wish I could be as subtle and beautiful. All I know how to do is scream.”
    Alice Oseman, Radio Silence

  • #7
    Alice Oseman
    “I wonder sometimes whether you've exploded already, like a star, and what I'm seeing you is three million years into the past, and you're not here anyore. How can we be together here, now, when you are so far away. When you are so far ago? I'm shouting so loudly, but you never turn around to see me. Perhaps it is I who have already exploded. Either way, we are going to bring beautiful things into the universe.”
    Alice Oseman, Radio Silence

  • #8
    Alice Oseman
    “I couldn’t quite believe how much I seriously loved Aled Last, even if it wasn’t in the ideal way that would make it socially acceptable for us to live together until we die.”
    Alice Oseman, Radio Silence

  • #9
    Alice Oseman
    “People move on quicker than I can comprehend. People forget you within days, they take new pictures to put on Facebook and they don't read your messages. They keep on moving forward and shove you to the side because you make more mistakes than you should.”
    Alice Oseman, Radio Silence

  • #10
    Alice Oseman
    “It must be useful to be smart," she said and then laughed weakly. She glanced down and suddenly looked very sad. "I'm like, constantly scared I'm going to be a homeless or something. I wish our whole lives didn't have to depend on our grades.”
    Alice Oseman, Radio Silence

  • #11
    Donna Tartt
    “Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.”
    Donna Tartt, The Secret History

  • #12
    Donna Tartt
    “Does such a thing as 'the fatal flaw,' that showy dark crack running down the middle of a life, exist outside literature? I used to think it didn't. Now I think it does. And I think that mine is this: a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs.”
    Donna Tartt, The Secret History

  • #13
    Donna Tartt
    “It's a very Greek idea, and a very profound one. Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it. And what could be more terrifying and beautiful, to souls like the Greeks or our own, than to lose control completely? To throw off the chains of being for an instant, to shatter the accident of our mortal selves? Euripides speaks of the Maenads: head thrown I back, throat to the stars, "more like deer than human being." To be absolutely free! One is quite capable, of course, of working out these destructive passions in more vulgar and less efficient ways. But how glorious to release them in a single burst! To sing, to scream, to dance barefoot in the woods in the dead of night, with no more awareness of mortality than an animal! These are powerful mysteries. The bellowing of bulls. Springs of honey bubbling from the ground. If we are strong enough in our souls we can rip away the veil and look that naked, terrible beauty right in the face; let God consume us, devour us, unstring our bones. Then spit us out reborn.”
    Donna Tartt, The Secret History

  • #14
    Donna Tartt
    “But how,” said Charles, who was close to tears, “how can you possibly justify cold-blooded murder?’
    Henry lit a cigarette. “I prefer to think of it,” he had said, “as redistribution of matter.”
    Donna Tartt, The Secret History

  • #15
    Donna Tartt
    “I suppose at one time in my life I might have had any number of stories, but now there is no other. This is the only story I will ever be able to tell.”
    Donna Tartt, The Secret History

  • #16
    Donna Tartt
    “There is nothing wrong with the love of Beauty. But Beauty - unless she is wed to something more meaningful - is always superficial.”
    Donna Tartt, The Secret History

  • #17
    Donna Tartt
    “For if the modern mind is whimsical and discursive, the classical mind is narrow, unhesitating, relentless. It is not a quality of intelligence that one encounters frequently these days. But though I can digress with the best of them, I am nothing in my soul if not obsessive.”
    Donna Tartt, The Secret History

  • #18
    Donna Tartt
    “Cubitum eamus?"
    "What?"
    "Nothing.”
    Donna Tartt, The Secret History

  • #19
    Donna Tartt
    “Anything is grand if it's done on a large enough scale.”
    Donna Tartt, The Secret History

  • #20
    Donna Tartt
    “After all, the appeal to stop being yourself, even for a little while, is very great.”
    Donna Tartt, The Secret History

  • #21
    Donna Tartt
    “It is easy to see things in retrospect. But I was ignorant then of everything but my own happiness, and I don’t know what else to say except that life itself seemed very magical in those days: a web of symbol, coincidence, premonition, omen. Everything, somehow, fit together; some sly and benevolent Providence was revealing itself by degrees and I felt myself trembling on the brink of a fabulous discovery, as though any morning it was all going to come together–my future, my past, the whole of my life–and I was going to sit up in bed like a thunderbolt and say oh! oh! oh!”
    Donna Tartt, The Secret History



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