megan ☆

“The fatal gesture passed like the tail of a falling star across the blackness of the contemplated crime. It was like some dreadful silent ballet, the male dancer holding the ballerina by her foot and streaking down through watery twilight.”
― Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

“But still I was lonely. It was Boris that I missed, the whole impulsive mess of him: gloomy, reckless, hot-tempered, appallingly thoughtless. Boris pale and pasty, with his shoplifted apples and his Russian language novels, gnawed down fingernails and shoelaces dragging in the dust. Boris - budding alcoholic, fluent curser in four languages - who snatched his food from my plate when he felt like it and nodded off drunk on the floor, face red like he'd been slapped.”
― Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

“The sky is blue today, Max, and there is a big long cloud, and it's stretched out, like a rope. At the end of it, the sun is like a yellow hole...'
Max, at this moment, knew that only a child could have given him a weather report like that.”
― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

“The last time I saw her was red. The sky was like soup, boiling and stirring. In some places it was burned. There were black crumbs, and pepper, streaked amongst the redness.”
― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief