“Ah,” said a voice from the doorway, “having your annual ‘everyone thinks Will is a lunatic’ meeting, are you?
“It’s biannual,” said Jem. “And no, this is not that meeting.”
― Clockwork Prince
“It’s biannual,” said Jem. “And no, this is not that meeting.”
― Clockwork Prince
“It's all right to love someone who doesn't love you back, as long as they're worth you loving them. As long as they deserve it.”
― Clockwork Angel
― Clockwork Angel
“You musn’t be afraid of the dark.’
‘I’m not,’ said Shadow. ‘I’m afraid of the people in the dark.”
― American Gods
‘I’m not,’ said Shadow. ‘I’m afraid of the people in the dark.”
― American Gods
“Here: an exercise in choice. Your choice. One of these tales is true.
She lived through the war. In 1959 she came to America. She now lives in a condo in Miami, a tiny French woman with white hair, with a daughter and a grand-daughter. She keeps herself to herself and smiles rarely, as if the weight of memory keeps her from finding joy.
Or that's a lie. Actually the Gestapo picked her up during a border crossing in 1943, and they left her in a meadow. First she dug her own grave, then a single bullet to the back of the skull.
Her last thought, before that bullet, was that she was four months' pregnant, and that if we do not fight to create a future there will be no future for any of us.
There is an old woman in Miami who wakes, confused, from a dream of the wind blowing the wildflowers in a meadow.
There are bones untouched beneath the warm French earth which dream of a daughter's wedding. Good wine is drunk. The only tears shed are happy ones.”
― Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders
She lived through the war. In 1959 she came to America. She now lives in a condo in Miami, a tiny French woman with white hair, with a daughter and a grand-daughter. She keeps herself to herself and smiles rarely, as if the weight of memory keeps her from finding joy.
Or that's a lie. Actually the Gestapo picked her up during a border crossing in 1943, and they left her in a meadow. First she dug her own grave, then a single bullet to the back of the skull.
Her last thought, before that bullet, was that she was four months' pregnant, and that if we do not fight to create a future there will be no future for any of us.
There is an old woman in Miami who wakes, confused, from a dream of the wind blowing the wildflowers in a meadow.
There are bones untouched beneath the warm French earth which dream of a daughter's wedding. Good wine is drunk. The only tears shed are happy ones.”
― Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders
“Writing's a lot like cooking. Sometimes the cake won't rise, no matter what you do, and every now and again the cake tastes better than you ever could have dreamed it would.”
― Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders
― Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders
Young Adult Book Reading Challenges
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— last activity Jan 13, 2026 05:33PM
Welcome to the Young Adult Book Reading Challenges! Welcome everyone who is interested in YA books! We have amazing reading challenges going on all t ...more
Crystal’s 2025 Year in Books
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