Gentry DeWinter

“He looks at me like he’s reading my thoughts through my eyes. “You don’t have to say anything. I hear you anyway.”
― Raven Kennedy, Goldfinch

“When you add some in, it means you have more layers to digest. You get a taste of things you were missing before. But if you add too many, life can become unpalatable.”
― Raven Kennedy, Gleam

“There are hundreds and hundreds of them up there, nesting in the rafters. They’ve been here for as long as anyone can remember. Over a thousand years, probably. Someone folded mating pairs a long time ago and gave them a spark of magic. They kept hold of that magic, and passed it on, and passed it on again.” “But… how?” It didn’t seem possible. “They’re just paper.” Tal was solemn, letting his head hang as he pulled out a chair at the end of the long reading table and slowly sat down. He stacked his hands on his stomach, storm-gray gaze finding me at last. “Aren’t we just the same? Made from the same material as the sea and the dirt and the sky? Folded from the scraps of the gods and entrusted with a spark of magic that makes us real?”
― Callie Hart, Brimstone

“A death flower bloomed across the front of his shirt, black as ink.”
― Callie Hart, Brimstone