Anne

“Now all that was gone. This was the unbelievable fact of death. This was a paradox her mind could not accept, that someone could be in the world one moment and simply be gone the next.”
― R.F. Kuang, Katabasis

“Sometimes I am very clever but most of the time I am not. I have been a good person sometimes, and a bad person at others. Sooner or later I will die. But before I do, I will try—I will try very hard—to make it count.”
― R.F. Kuang, Katabasis

“Grief, my mother once told me, is love’s most honest expression. The last and hardest aspect of truly, truly caring for someone. She said it at her own mother’s funeral rites, tears in her eyes even as she tried to comfort a boy too young to understand why he was so sad, why his grandmother couldn’t be there anymore. She explained through choking sobs that without grief, love would be meaningless. Because it is impossible to truly love something that cannot be lost.”
― James Islington, The Strength of the Few

“You’re young. You probably still think relationships are all about being careful not to bruise one another.” Then she turned the glass to Marni. “You have no excuse.”
“Aren’t they?” Charlie asked. Perhaps, as a dominatrix, this was an area where metaphors about bruising got a little complicated. “Or at least, shouldn’t they be?”
The laugh Odette gave was harsh. “And what happens when you can’t live up to that?”
Charlie’s thoughts shifted to Vince and how careful she’d been around him, how much she tried to hide herself. How thoroughly he’d hidden himself from her. How they might love one another, but never actually knew one another. Then, she thought of Red, and felt out of her depth. “I honestly don’t know.”
Odette sighed. “You imagine yourself like actors, Vaseline on the lens, hiding your flaws. But you should want someone to kiss your scars. Someone who’ll catch your vomit in their hands. Who’ll love you just as much if you get so drunk you piss the bed—or if you need a fucking catheter and a piss bag. True love had to take stink along with sweetness.”
― Holly Black, Thief of Night