Sarah Grant

“What are Pyrrha’s nicknames for you?”
“Kiddie,” said Nona immediately. “Junior. Small Fry. Cutie Pie. Li’l Bits. Small Cam. Hairy Maclary.”
“Keep going.”
“Nums. No-No. Nope. None. Sweet Nons. Nona-Paloma. The Big No.”
“She should be arrested,” murmured Camilla, then: “Got it.”
― Tamsyn Muir, Nona the Ninth

“Nona felt very grave. “If you had asked me that yesterday,” she said, “I would have said, probably yes, because Honesty’s my friend, but—Hot Sauce shot me when she found out I was a zombie, so I’m out of the gang.” “Ah … children, they are very forgiving,” said the commander, proving to Nona she had never been around children. She said into her receiver: “The Messenger will tell you the street. Split us off and take us there.”
― Tamsyn Muir, Nona the Ninth

“So I brought them into the room with the bodies and I was all, Let me introduce you to … Ulysses. Let me introduce you to … Titania. He thought about it and added, I better say that it was Titania from Midsummer, Shakespeare, but Ulysses was for a dog my nana had when I was a child. I worshipped that dog. He was the bravest dog I’d ever met. Half Chihuahua, half pug. Nan called him Ulysses S. Grunt. Died from eating too much pizza. The dog, I mean. Nan died of pneumonia when I was a teenager.”
― Tamsyn Muir, Nona the Ninth

“You told me, Sleep, I’ll wake you in the morning.
I asked, What is morning? and you said, When everyone who fucked with me is dead.

When everyone we loved has gone or fled,
That’s morning. Empty’s just another word for clean.
Let’s put this first draft dream of mine to bed.

In the appointed hour
I’ll pull up your sheets. I’ll kill the light,
Lie down beside you; die; and sleep the night.

This time will be the time we get it right;
Forgiveness not so hard, nor anger long;
Our graves will be less deep, our lies less true

You held aloft the sword.
I still love y”
― Tamsyn Muir, Nona the Ninth