Rae

“Last to check was her namesake: a rampion or bellflower, Campanula rapunculus-- little turnip. All by itself in a beautiful Spanish clay pot with a bright blue glaze. Its blooms were pinky-purple stars, tiny but perfect and delicate.
Sometimes, if she was feeling down, Rapunzel would secretly break off a leaf and chew it, the sour/bitter taste comforting her through the worst of the drab winter months when nothing else grew.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Pretty flowers grew on the banks in colors her books did not adequately re-create: pink, golden eggy yellow, bright white with the shadow of its own curled petal twinning next to it.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Flynn was leaning against the side of the house, legs crossed, an ironic smile on his face. He must have been up for a while; he had obviously taken pains to wash his face and neck and arms (at least; that was just all Rapunzel could see) and straighten his hair so it was parted dashingly to one side. She wondered, for a moment, whose comb he had borrowed, or if he had his own stashed away somewhere like his knives.
He was stupidly, ridiculously handsome.
Even with the stupid, ridiculously fake smile on his face.
Not at all the worst thing to wake up to.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand.”
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein