“. . . how artful bodies will be, retelling old stories.”
―
―
“I'd plotted, as a child, to give my life to the Lord. In college, I'd lost this faith. Isolated, grief-wild, I'd picked through the ruins He'd left behind. If I could still love this orphan world, deprived of His salvific light, which parts of it might even I, broken as I came, find worth prizing?”
―
―
“He hadn't realized until the real Gaunt materialized how far his memories had strayed from the original.”
― In Memoriam
― In Memoriam
“He felt as if he had shed something, some weight he had not known he carried. [ . . . ] A knot of tangles in his heart was unsnarling, and things were much simpler than before.”
― In Memoriam
― In Memoriam
“It is easier, I think, to consider the fact of us in its many disparate pieces, as opposed to one vast and intractable thing. Easier, I think, to claw through the scatter of us in the hopes of retrieving something, of pulling some singular thing from the debris and holding it up to the light.”
― Our Wives Under the Sea
― Our Wives Under the Sea
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