Lise8

“Because I've never made such an effort not to be hated by someone”
― Christelle Dabos, Les Disparus du Clairdelune

“She kissed his scars, first the one cutting through his eyebrow, then the one cutting into his cheek, and finally the one cutting across his temple. With each contact, Thorn's eyes widened. His muscles, conversely, tightened.
"Fifty-six." He cleared his throat to make his voice less hoarse. Ophelia had never seen him so intimidated, despite his efforts not to show it.
"Thats the number of my scars."
She closed and then reopened her eyes. She felt it again, even more violently, this urgent call from inside her. "Show them to me.”
― Christelle Dabos, La Mémoire de Babel

“You are not a doll," Ophelia asserted, with all the breath she had. "You don't have to fulfill another's dream."
"I must do what is written," Farouk repeated, unperturbed. "Open the door."
The three policemen responsible for the unlocking mechanism moved towards Ophelia, but she stood firm and God's words emerged from her body, as if they had, inexplicably, always been there, lurking in the corner of her being, waiting for their time to come: "Your Book is but the start of your story, Odin. It's up to you alone to write the ending.”
― Christelle Dabos, Les Disparus du Clairdelune

“Ophelia was scared, viscerally scared, that he might have grown fond of her. She felt incapable of loving him in return. She certainly didn’t know much on the subject of feelings, but for that alchemy to work, then a man and a woman need to enjoy a minimum amount of affinity?”
― Christelle Dabos, A Winter's Promise