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“Until the air itself is hung with soft glimmers, until it feels like the world is hung with stars. It is so simple a thing—fireflies in the cloister. And yet every time, I’m humbled by it. By the magic God so casually lets loose for us, by these sweet moments which are so freely given.”
― Sierra Simone, Saint

“It was like the smoke off an oil fire—silky and poisonous and thick; it wore my face; it spoke with my voice. “Hello,” it said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
― Sierra Simone, Saint

“Grief was normal enough that it felt almost safe, and Paul could imagine enduring it forever. He might be able to suspend the two of them together in amber, so long as his unhappiness remained the same.”
― Micah Nemerever, These Violent Delights

“His face was so blank that Paul could read anything he wanted in his features. He chose disgust.”
― Micah Nemerever, These Violent Delights