Twenty-seven. The age she would die. Just three more years until her death would come to pass; a future she didn’t fear, but resented. For three short years was no time at all for a woman to become what she wanted. A legend.
“JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
PLEASE JUDE”
― The Queen of Nothing
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE
PLEASE JUDE”
― The Queen of Nothing
“To read fiction means to play a game by which we give sense to the immensity of things that happened, are happening, or will happen in the actual world. By reading narrative, we escape the anxiety that attacks us when we try to say something true about the world. This is the consoling function of narrative — the reason people tell stories, and have told stories from the beginning of time.”
― Six Walks in the Fictional Woods
― Six Walks in the Fictional Woods
“To the High Queen of Elfhame,
Above me is the same silvery moon that shines down on you. Looking at it makes me recall the glint of your blade pressed against my throat and other romantic moments.
I do not know what keeps you from returning
to the High Court—whether it is vexation
with me, or whether, having spent time in
the mortal world, you have come to believe
that a life free of the Folk is better than one
ruling over them.
In my most wretched hours, I believe you will
never come back.
Why would you, save for your ambition?
You have always known exactly what I am
and seen all my failings, all my weaknesses
and scars. I flattered myself that at moments
you had feelings for me other than contempt,
but even were that true, they would be but
watered wine beside the feast of your other,
greater desires.
And yet my heart is buried with you in the
strange soil of the mortal world, as it was
drowned with you in the cold waters of the
Undersea.
It was yours before I could admit it, and yours
it shall ever remain.
Cardan”
― The Queen of Nothing
Above me is the same silvery moon that shines down on you. Looking at it makes me recall the glint of your blade pressed against my throat and other romantic moments.
I do not know what keeps you from returning
to the High Court—whether it is vexation
with me, or whether, having spent time in
the mortal world, you have come to believe
that a life free of the Folk is better than one
ruling over them.
In my most wretched hours, I believe you will
never come back.
Why would you, save for your ambition?
You have always known exactly what I am
and seen all my failings, all my weaknesses
and scars. I flattered myself that at moments
you had feelings for me other than contempt,
but even were that true, they would be but
watered wine beside the feast of your other,
greater desires.
And yet my heart is buried with you in the
strange soil of the mortal world, as it was
drowned with you in the cold waters of the
Undersea.
It was yours before I could admit it, and yours
it shall ever remain.
Cardan”
― The Queen of Nothing
“Fiction can show you a different world. It can take you somewhere you've never been. Once you've visited other worlds, like those who ate fairy fruit, you can never be entirely content with the world that you grew up in. Discontent is a good thing: discontented people can modify and improve their worlds, leave them better, leave them different.
And while we're on the subject, I'd like to say a few words about escapism. I hear the term bandied about as if it's a bad thing. As if "escapist" fiction is a cheap opiate used by the muddled and the foolish and the deluded, and the only fiction that is worthy, for adults or for children, is mimetic fiction, mirroring the worst of the world the reader finds herself in.
If you were trapped in an impossible situation, in an unpleasant place, with people who meant you ill, and someone offered you a temporary escape, why wouldn't you take it? And escapist fiction is just that: fiction that opens a door, shows the sunlight outside, gives you a place to go where you are in control, are with people you want to be with(and books are real places, make no mistake about that); and more importantly, during your escape, books can also give you knowledge about the world and your predicament, give you weapons, give you armour: real things you can take back into your prison. Skills and knowledge and tools you can use to escape for real.
As JRR Tolkien reminded us, the only people who inveigh against escape are jailers.”
― The View from the Cheap Seats: Selected Nonfiction
And while we're on the subject, I'd like to say a few words about escapism. I hear the term bandied about as if it's a bad thing. As if "escapist" fiction is a cheap opiate used by the muddled and the foolish and the deluded, and the only fiction that is worthy, for adults or for children, is mimetic fiction, mirroring the worst of the world the reader finds herself in.
If you were trapped in an impossible situation, in an unpleasant place, with people who meant you ill, and someone offered you a temporary escape, why wouldn't you take it? And escapist fiction is just that: fiction that opens a door, shows the sunlight outside, gives you a place to go where you are in control, are with people you want to be with(and books are real places, make no mistake about that); and more importantly, during your escape, books can also give you knowledge about the world and your predicament, give you weapons, give you armour: real things you can take back into your prison. Skills and knowledge and tools you can use to escape for real.
As JRR Tolkien reminded us, the only people who inveigh against escape are jailers.”
― The View from the Cheap Seats: Selected Nonfiction
“He read while he walked. He read while he ate. The other librarians suspected he somehow read while he slept, or perhaps didn't sleep at all.”
― Strange the Dreamer
― Strange the Dreamer
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