“We go home to marry, my Princess.” As in get married? To him? Suddenly, I thought of all those girlish fantasies I’d had before I learned who I was and what was expected of me—daydreams given life because of the love my parents had for one
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“To the ones who hunger—
for love, for time, or simply to be free”
― Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil
for love, for time, or simply to be free”
― Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil
“The hunger lives inside us all. To some it is an empty bucket. To others, a yawning pit. And yet, no matter how shallow or how deep it feels, here is a truth that will either drive you mad, or bring you peace.' He sits forward. 'There is no filling it. You will never be sated. It does not matter whether you drink a carafe or drain a city. The hunger will not ease.”
― Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil
― Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil
“And how is a miracle different from a spell? Who is to say the saint was not a witch?”
― Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil
― Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil
“More and more she thinks of cutting it off. Her hair. His hand. Depending on the day.”
― Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil
― Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil
“What is the point, she thinks, of loving something you are doomed to lose? Of holding on to someone who cannot hold on to you?”
― Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil
― Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil
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