Lise8

“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

“Indeed, one never loves someone more than when one knows the least about them.”
― Christelle Dabos , A Winter's Promise

“D’ailleurs, on ne s’aime jamais si bien que quand on se connaît fort mal.”
― Christelle Dabos, Les Fiancés de l'hiver

“When Thorn finally pulled away, short of breath, it was to stare sternly straight through her glasses.
"I warn you, the words you said to me, I won't let you go back on them." His voice was harsh, but underlining the authority of his words, there was some sort of crack.
Ophelia could see the quickened pulse in the hands he was awkwardly pressing to her cheeks. She had to admit her own heart was swinging to and fro. Thorn was, without doubt, the most disconcerting man she'd ever met. But he did make her feel wonderfully alive.
"I love you," she repeated firmly.”
― Christelle Dabos, A Winter's Promise / The Missing of Clairdelune / The Memory of Babel