Laure

“After Jericho's illness crippled him and his parents had abandoned him to the state, it was Will who'd stepped in as guardian. He had sheltered Jericho, fed and clothed him, and taught his ward what he could about running the museum and about Diviners. For that, Jericho supposed he owed him a debt. But Will hadn't given Jericho the parts that mattered most. He hadn't given himself. The two of them had never gone fishing in a cold stream early on a summer's day and shared their thoughts on love and life while they watched the sun draw the curling morning mist from the water. They'd never discussed how to find one's place in the world, never talked of fathers and sons, or what makes someone a man. No. He and Will spoke in newspaper articles about ghosts. They conversed through the careful curation of supernatural knickknacks. And Jericho couldn't help but feel cheated at how little he'd gotten when he'd needed so much more.
Why was there so much silence between men?”
― Libba Bray, Lair of Dreams

“I don’t know where old girl found a bikini that big, but she’s got maximum Don’t Give A Fuck mode engaged, and I’m surfing on her bitch wave.”
― N.K. Jemisin, The City We Became

“Some books you read. Some books you enjoy. But some books just swallow you up, heart and soul.”
― Joanne Harris

“But why not take pride in this country? It's the envy of the world. A place where any man can realize his dream. We, the dreamers, built this nation."
"The Indians and slaves might disagree," Jericho shot back.”
― Libba Bray, Lair of Dreams