Danielle Steele

“my thoughts eventually turn into wondering if I’ll be petrified here, if I’ll become one with the tree. A hundred years from now people will pass by, and a girl will tug on her father’s sleeve. “Do you see the girl in the tree?” she’ll ask. And he’ll pat her on her head. “You have a grand imagination.” Maybe if she looks closely, she’ll be able to see me blink. If she places her palm against the bark, she’ll be able to feel my heart still beating.”
― Kim Liggett, The Grace Year

“As we approach the end of the path, we’re faced with a towering wood gate, hundreds of lifeless ribbons nailed to the rough-hewn wood. Some are tattered, long since faded to the softest blush, but others are still crisp, the sharpest of crimson. I want to pretend the girls put them here themselves, one last rebellious act before returning to the county, but I’m done pretending. These are the ribbons of the girls who’ve been killed. It’s more than a warning. It’s a message. Welcome to your new home.”
― Kim Liggett, The Grace Year

“Heaven is a boy in a treehouse, with cold hands and a warm heart.”
― Kim Liggett, The Grace Year

“They can call it magic. I can call it madness. But one thing is certain. There is no grace here.”
― Kim Liggett, The Grace Year