Bonnie’s Reviews > Palaces of the Crow > Status Update

"Why had they believed that, having been smashed and broken, torn to rags, the world would somehow end up better than before? It was never true of people, was it? Never true that, once abused, once hurt, they became better people. They became more defensive, more concentrated on preserving what little they could of themselves. More insular, more determined never to let anyone hurt them again..."

"...And the names of things changed, and the languages one needed to know, and the books the teachers taught from at school, and the ideas of what was supposed to have belonged to whom in the past. All that changed.
But beyond all of that, there was just life, simple life. Parents and children, friendships and arguments, and people writing books, and people making films in which people fell in love..."

Because there would be a future. All of this had to end eventually. And once it did, one way or another, change would come. A new world would build itself back up again. And it was impossible to think of that world as not containing her mother and her father.
Worlds didn’t end—not for good: they were destroyed in part, and then whoever was left after the destruction built the destroyed parts back up again...

The words, sentences, paragraphs, chapters, formed a structure. A scaffolding. A wall. An architecture. They had shape. They gave shape. They showed her the lines and edges of things, defined them one from the other, gave them their places. Not a wall. A picture. A map of the world was being drawn, in which everything was brought into relation with everything else, and could be made sense of.

Learning to read while hiding out in the forest. Start with the letters. Kezia isn't an adult, but not a four-year-old either. Maybe 13.

"But when she finally fell asleep, the letters returned, assembling themselves into words, then sentences, imprinting themselves in the colors of fire. Speaking. Bringing understanding with them."

Life and lessons during World War II.

"It was as simple as that. You forgot a thing, and it was saved. You remembered it, and it burned with everything else. Or you forgot a thing, and it was destroyed. Or you remembered it, and it was saved. There was no logic, no knowing."