Arabella

“What's happening here?" This last bit was hissed to Ronan and Noah.
"Noah took a personal day."
"I lost..." Noah struggled for words. "There wasn't air. It went away. The - the line!"
"The ley line?" Gansey asked.
Noah nodded once, a sloppy thing that was sort of a shrug at the same time. "There was nothing ... left for me." Releasing Ronan, he shook out his hands.
"You're welcome, man," Ronan snarled. He still couldn't feel his toes.
"Thanks. I didn't mean to ... you were there. Oh, the glitter."
"Yes," Ronan replied crossly. "The glitter.”
― Maggie Stiefvater, The Dream Thieves

“He mumbled, "I'd ask you out, if I was alive."

"I'd say OK," she replied.”
― Maggie Stiefvater, The Dream Thieves

“My Mother

They are killing her again.
She said she did it
One year in every ten,
But they do it annually, or weekly,
Some even do it daily,
Carrying her death around in their heads
And practicing it. She saves them
The trouble of their own;
They can die through her
Without ever making
The decision. My buried mother
Is up-dug for repeat performances.

Now they want to make a film
For anyone lacking the ability
To imagine the body, head in oven,
Orphaning children. Then
It can be rewound
So they can watch her die
Right from the beginning again.

The peanut eaters, entertained
At my mother’s death, will go home,
Each carrying their memory of her,
Lifeless – a souvenir.
Maybe they’ll buy the video.

Watching someone on TV
Means all they have to do
Is press ‘pause’
If they want to boil a kettle,
While my mother holds her breath on screen
To finish dying after tea.
The filmmakers have collected
The body parts,
They want me to see.
They require dressings to cover the joins
And disguise the prosthetics
In their remake of my mother;
They want to use her poetry
As stitching and sutures
To give it credibility.
They think I should love it –
Having her back again, they think
I should give them my mother’s words
To fill the mouth of their monster,
Their Sylvia Suicide Doll,
Who will walk and talk
And die at will,
And die, and die
And forever be dying.”
― Frieda Hughes, The Book of Mirrors

“As Gansey led the way out, Noah said to Ronan, “I know why you’re mad.”
Ronan sneered at him, but his pulse heaved. “Tell me then, prophet.”
Noah said, “It’s not my job to tell other people’s secrets.”
― Maggie Stiefvater, The Dream Thieves