205 Quotes by Sarah Monette

The magic of the Mirador is thrashing around like a snake in its death convulsions.

He never liked things that weren’t his idea first.

The world is disappearing, piece by piece; the darkness has closed in around me long before the sun sets.

I can see the darkness winding around me like silk ribbons, streaming and flapping in a wind that is not there.

She looked at me, her eyes mocking and mean and sad all at the same time.

Faith Cowry turned out to be little, dark, skinny, bright-eyed as a wren, and not the least bit stupid. And despite what Estella’d said, she didn’t strike me as absentminded either, just somebody who knew what mattered, and it didn’t include showing up on time to meet Estella’s low-life friends.

I wonder what they think of me in their world of light, deaf to the broken patterns around them. I wonder what stories they have invented, to explain me when I cannot explain myself.

I can hear broken edges, failures, a great emptiness where there should be beauty. I can hear a faint, sobbing thread of song, running through the desolution like a tickle of tainted water through a battlefield strewn with corpses. It is all my fault. I cannot remember how or why, but I can feel my guilt in everything I touch.

The darkness was crowding up around me, and, while I couldn’t hear the Virtu any longer, I was becoming fretfully aware of something else, a noise like some vast heartbeat, only with too many pulses. Mélusine, breathing.