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A forest floor, the Woodland villagers knew, is a living thing. Vast civilizations lay within the mosaic of dirt: hymenopteran labyrinths, rodential panic rooms, life-giving airways sculpted by the traffic of worms, hopeful spiders’ hunting
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“It felt like donning a suit of armor or sprouting wings, extending past the boundaries of myself; it felt an awful lot like love.”
― The Ten Thousand Doors of January
― The Ten Thousand Doors of January
“But a more grown-up, sober-sounding voice reminded me that The Ten Thousand Doors was just a novel, and that novels are untrustworthy advisers. They aren’t concerned with rationality or sobriety; they peddle in tragedy and suspense, in chaos and rule breaking, in madness and heartache, and they will steer you toward such things with all the guile of a piper luring rats into a river.”
― The Ten Thousand Doors of January
― The Ten Thousand Doors of January
“She had always lived her best life in dreams. She knew no greater pleasure than that moment of passage into the other place, when her limbs grew warm and heavy and the sparkling darkness behind her lids became ordered and doors opened; when conscious thought grew owl's wings and talons and became other than conscious.”
― Little, Big
― Little, Big
“Something about having a child bends you back to your beginnings, as if you have been drawing a circle all your life and now are compelled to close it.”
― The Ten Thousand Doors of January
― The Ten Thousand Doors of January
“If we only fell in love with people who were perfect for us, he said, then there wouldn’t be so much fuss about love in the first place.”
― Rules of Civility
― Rules of Civility
Keith’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Keith’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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