Jessica

“But all of life is one great tragedy for a woman. You're born, you have a brief, shining moment when you're in control, you matter, you age, you die. Each passing day is a small death that prepares you for the end.”
― Ek Sathue, youthjuice

“These were emotions she didn't know how to carry. There was the insult of having her death celebrated when she wasn't even dead. When she was, in fact, amidst them all right now, and only out here because they'd sent killers to fail in her home.

But this? To be dying from the poison of those assassins, and while looking for emergency food to survive the injury, to be told by a drunk rich boy with inconvenient hair that she had never really existed? Now their songs made unkind sense to her. This revelry was a kind of fear, for hatred was the fear people let themselves enjoy.

Never had she imagined such a thing. Humans were so creative in their disappointments.”
― John Wiswell, Someone You Can Build a Nest In

“Someone once told me that grief is love you can no longer express.”
― Selma Blair, Mean Baby: A Memoir of Growing Up

“We bathed in their blood to stay young. Slick, fatty liquid kept us alight in our wild beauty. Their blood was the fountain of youth, burbling through our very own veins. Platelets are the secret to radiance. The key to a brighter complexion. Blood, with the fortifying run of an egg yolk’s slow drip, is the opposite of tech. It’s messy, never sterile.”
― E.K. Sathue, youthjuice