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Nudibrank?? Nudibrank??? It's a nudibran-ch!! Pronounced as a "branch"

The human mind holds more poison than any plant.

The difference between poison and cure is simply a matter of dose.

"I want little grandnieces and nephews. All that talent you have. You must pass it on." As if Sciona had cultivated her talent so some man could put his name on it and his sons could reap the benefits she hadn't enjoyed.

I was starting to feel as though my entire existence was a threat. Perhaps this was what womanhood was. The dangerous knowledge of who you are and what you could do with that power if pushed.

Definitely giving me A Court of Silver Flames vibes!!

How smart was she?
Who knows? She saw everything differently. She would figure something out and then half the time she couldn't explain to you how she done it. It was hard for her to understand what it was that you didn't understand. That smart.

We believe that animals are too pure for this life. They are all ascended beings who live in the after. Everything is perfect there. No pain or misfortune or heartbreak. But sometimes, they peer beyond the veil between this life and the next, and they see us here in the depths of our suffering, and they choose someone. One soul they want to help over any other. They come to us as...dear friends.

When it's bed time midweek and you're 100 pages from finishing....put it down!!!!

I always made it a rule to follow a cat. Particularly a black cat.

We’re all so complicated, and we match up for a moment - or maybe a lifetime - with somebody because we feel that we are connected to them. And we are. But we’re not in a certain way, because nobody can go into the crevices of another’s mind, even the person can’t go into the crevices of their own mind, and we live - all of us -as though we can

I mean, we don't ever really know another person. And so we make them up according to when they came into our lives

Confidence is silent; insecurity is loud.

"But books, it's seems to me, do not end, even when we're finished reading them."

"My prayers are heard!" ejaculated St. John.

""Strange indeed!" I could not help ejaculating.

"What, me!" I ejaculated

"Sit down or I'll knock you down," Large Marg said... "you don't wanna get me started on what a real man is Ernt Albright. I'm holding on to my temper but it could run away with me, and you do not wanna see a big woman come at you, trust me, so shut your trap and listen."

I push the thoughts away and loose myself in the delicious burn of my muscles, the thudding of my feet against pine needle dusted earth. The only two ways I've ever managed to get out of my head are through reading and vigorous exercise. With either, I can slip out of my mind and drift in this bodiless dark.

"Strikers in this country never won broad public support, for the public merely wanted all the conveniences of modern life without the guilt of knowing how those conveniences were procured"

Sound familiar?

'It’s not right what they’re doing to our countries.’ ... ‘And it’s not right that I’m trained to use my languages for their benefit, to translate laws and texts to facilitate their rule, when there are people in India and China and Haiti and all over the Empire and the world who are hungry and starving because the British would rather put silver in their hats and harpsichords than anywhere it could do some good.'

‘The Germans have this lovely word, Sitzfleisch,’ Professor Playfair said pleasantly when Ramy protested that they had over forty hours of reading a week. ‘Translated literally, it means “sitting meat”. Which all goes to say, sometimes you need simply to sit on your bottom and get things done.

Floating suspended in the air, all the rest of it blacked out - it was just us up there, flying, flames practically licking at our shoes, the air hazy and dreamy, smoke swirling into our hair, flecks of fire landing on our ankles softly as fireflies.

When I die then, we shall cut you out in stars, and you will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night.

You can't cut off the strings of your puppet and still expect it to move for you

Roscoe, Oreo, knock it off!” she says, scooping them up in her arms, giving each a quick nuzzle, and then tossing each onto a separate couch, where they land safely and expertly. She turns and says, “You know what you call two cats?” “I don’t know,” Connie says, liking the woman. “A herd? A pride? A duo?” Peggy smiles. “A crazy cat lady starter kit."

Few men could match my military prowess. Go and look through your books and your poems: my skill is rarely spoken of. For it is difficult for men to imagine me for the general I was; easier to speak on my beauty than on my mind.

Will we ever tire of men defining the parameters of womanhood? I look at the world as you live it, reader, and grow weary.

I would have lain there forever; let the worms eat my flesh, and the soil take my waters. Let grass push through my skin, and roots bind my bones.

Do not chase shadows. Make your own light.