Shanny
https://www.goodreads.com/sleepiestguwl
“There is no God, there is only what you want.”
― White Oleander
― White Oleander
“The sound of her laughter was sticky as sap, the smell of night-blooming jasmine soft as a milk bath.”
― White Oleander
― White Oleander
“It was her first book, an indigo cover with a silver moonflower, an art nouveau flower, I traced my finger along the silver line like smoke, whiplash curves. ... I touched the pages her hands touched, I pressed them to my lips, the soft thick old paper, yellow now, fragile as skin. I stuck my nose between the bindings and smelled all the readings she had given, the smell of unfiltered cigarettes and the espresso machine, beaches and incense and whispered words in the night. I could hear her voice rising from the pages. The cover curled outward like sails.”
― White Oleander
― White Oleander
“She was sitting cross-legged on her bed in her white kimono, writing in a notebook with an ink pen she dipped in a bottle. 'Never let a man stay the night,' she told me. 'Dawn has a way of casting a pall on any night magic.' The night magic sounded lovely. Someday I would have lovers and write a poem after.”
― White Oleander
― White Oleander
“She kissed me on the mouth. Her mouth tasted like iced coffee and cardamom, and I was overwhelmed by the taste, her hot skin and the smell of unwashed hair. I was confused, but not unwilling. I would have let her do anything to me.”
― White Oleander
― White Oleander
Shanny’s 2025 Year in Books
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