Lindsey Phillips

“I couldn’t stand so many people so close to me. I was overpowered by the noise, the perfume, the decorations, and by the glare of the electric lights. After the soft glow of candles, everything seemed harsh and artificially bright.”
― Benedict Freedman, Mrs. Mike

“This is me, this is who I am. This is Sasha Stone, who would have graduated as valedictorian and gone to Oberlin, who would have been on a dark stage in a few years, wearing black, unable to see the audience because of stage lights but feeling them there, their eyes on her though an entire orchestra was onstage. Sasha Stone always garnered the attention. Sasha Stone stood out in a sea of stars. But somehow I am here, not on a darkened stage but in a badly lit room with flickering fluorescents that hum to match the mechanical hearts of my audience members. I am here, with a harsh line down the middle of my face to match the one on my chest, a line that—should I ever make any stage—could never be covered by makeup. The light would seek it out. Illuminate it. All imperfections glare in the spotlight.”
― Mindy McGinnis, This Darkness Mine

“The light in that suburban office suite was bright but not harsh; the pale walls were incredibly clean and the carpeting, in Spence's description, was conspicuosly new and displayed the exact shade of purple found in turnips.”
― Thomas Ligotti, Teatro Grottesco

“And it was not darkness, but light—light, bright and pure as the sun on snow, that erupted from Asterin.
Light, as Asterin made the Yielding.
As the Thirteen, their broken bodies scattered around the tower in a near-circle, made the Yielding as well.
Light. They all burned with it. Radiated it.
Light that flowed from their souls, their fierce hearts as they gave themselves over to that power. Became incandescent with it.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Kingdom of Ash