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But her heart was so cold that she could hold ice in her mouth and it would never melt.
Catherynne M. Valente
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Catherynne M. Valente
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: May 5
Literary Critic
Novelist
Poet
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Seattle
Washington
Cat Valente
Mouth
Mouths
Cold
Hold
Heart
Never
Would
Melt
Ice
More quotes by Catherynne M. Valente
Never trust anyone under one hundred!
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That's Venus, September thought. She was the goddess of love. It's nice that love comes on first thing in the evening, and goes out last in the morning. Love keeps the light on all night.
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You cannot escape where you come from, September. Some part of it remains inside you always, like the slender white heart in the center of the thickest onion.
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When one is traveling, everything looks brighter and lovelier.
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Death stands behind every bride, every groom.
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Readers will always insist on adventures, and though you can have grief without adventures, you cannot have adventures without grief.
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For though, as we have said, all children are heartless, this is not precisely true of teenagers. Teenage hearts are raw and new, fast and fierce, and they do not know their own strength. Neither do they know reason or restraint, and if you want to know the truth, a goodly number of grown-up hearts never learn it.
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He missed you like a fish in a bowl misses the open sea.
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Her father’s shadow looked sadly down at her. “You can never forget what you do in a war, September my love. No one can. You won’t forget your war either.
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Do not ruin today with mourning tomorrow.
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Whenever one does extraordinary things, someone is bound to try to repeat them for themselves. It's the way of the world.
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You only had to choose which me to talk to, for, you know, we all change our manners, depending on who has come to chat. One doesn’t behave at all the same way to a grandfather as to a bosom friend, to a professor as to a curious niece.
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But if you must be clever, then be clever. Be brave. Sleep with fists closed and shoot straight.
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When little ones say they want to go home, they almost never mean it. They mean they are tired of this particular game and would like to start another.
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The smell of loving is a difficult one to describe, but if you think of the times when someone has held you close and made you safe, you will remember how it smells just as well as I do.
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War is not for winning, Masha, sighed Koschei, reading the tracks of supply lines, of pincer strategies, over her shoulder. It is for surviving.
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Snow is the beginning and the end of everything.
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Magic does that. It wastes you away. Once it grips you by the ear, the real world gets quieter and quieter, until you can hardly hear it at all.
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Yes, yes, mistress, I shall go and accomplish your task. Only—I was not only sent to kill the Leucrotta. There is a maiden in a tower— At this the Witch spat, again rolling her marvelous eyes. Those revolting creatures are always getting themselves locked up. If only they would stay that way.
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An equation is a prophecy that always comes true.
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