Kate

“We must not dwell on what we were in our salad days when soup days steam now upon the table!”
― Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Soared Over Fairyland and Cut the Moon in Two

“...I can see the beauty of the world - a weed growing out of a crack, a sunrise, the glory of art.' He takes comfort in even the grain of wood in the arms of the chair, the gentle coarseness of the linen weave of his shirt, the dust motes dancing in the beam of sunlight, the smell of Marsilio's fresh bread.”
― Jo Walton, Lent

“Then, seeming to feel it was expected of her, she laid down her crochet, and delivered a gentle old-maidish dissertation on murder.”
― Agatha Christie, The Moving Finger

“But what my car needs is gas, not memories! How can you make a car go on memories?'
B.D. scratched under her Admiral's hat. 'What'd you think gas was, girl? 'Course there's all sorts of fuel, wind and wishes and chocolate cake and collard greens and water and brawn, but you're wanting the kind that burns in an engine. That kind of gas is nothing more than the past stored up and fermented and kept down in the cellar of the earth till it's wanted. Gas is saved-up sunlight. Giant ferns and apples of immortality and dimetrodons and cyclopses and werewhales drank up the sun as it shone on their backs a million years ago and used it to be a bigger fern or make more werewhales or drop seeds of improbability.' Her otter's paws moved quick and sure, selecting a squat, square bottle here and a round rosy one there. 'It so happens sunshine has a fearful memory. It sticks around even after its favorite dimetrodon dies. Gets hard and wily. Turns into something you can touch, something you can drill, something you can pour. But it still remembers having one eye and slapping the ocean's face with a great heavy tail. It liked making more dinosaurs and growing a frond as tall as a bank. It likes to make things alive, to make things go.”
― Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Soared Over Fairyland and Cut the Moon in Two