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He’s quiet then. We lie next to each other, twin corpses waiting for burial.
Holly Black
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Holly Black
Age: 53
Born: 1971
Born: November 10
Journalist
Novelist
Writer
New Jersey
United States
Corpses
Twins
Quiet
Waiting
Lying
Next
Burial
Twin
More quotes by Holly Black
Keep going' she told herself, 'Don't look back.' But she looked anyways.
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You have to write a lot. And you have to rewrite what you wrote a lot more.
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I survive at the edge of friends circles.
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It demeans you to cover rotten meat with honey. I know what I am. What would you want with a monster? Everything.
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The first boy I fell in love with didn't know I loved him, but he managed to break my heart anyway.
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Death’s favorites don’t die.
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It is my belief that books are living things.
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Pet the cat dude, says Sam. She brought you a present. She wants you to tell her how badass she is. You are a tiny tiny killing machine. Daneca coos. What's she doing? I ask. Purring! says Daneca. She sounds delighted. Good kitty. Who's an amazing killing machine? That's right. You are! You are a brutal brutal tiny lion! Yes, y
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You can break a thing, but you cannot always guide it afterward into the shape you want.
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I thought of how proud he was when he took the marks- cutting the skin of his throat in a long slash and then packing it with ashes until keloid scars rose up. He called it his second smile.
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She can’t help it. She loves the con. I tell myself I’m not like her, but I have to admit I love it too.
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Memory is slippery. It bends to our understanding of the world, twists to accommodate our prejudices. It is unreliable. Witnesses seldom remember the same things. They identify the wrong people. They give us the details of events that never happened. Memory is slippery, but my memories suddenly feel slipperier.
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I’m Lila, and yes, he’s crazy. But you must have noticed that before now. He was crazy back when I knew him, and he’s obviously gotten crazier over time.
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Poisonous jealousy thrummed through my veins.
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I'm not very good at explaining things, she said. But I think you have beautiful eyes. I love the gold in them. I love that they're different from my eyes- I see mine all the time and I'm bored with them.
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Once, she made a boy come out of his house and kiss her under the streetlight. It was her first kiss. She thinks it was probably his, too. She never told him and she never, ever will.
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She sat in the dew-damp grass and ripped up clumps of it, tossing them in the air and feeling vaguely guilty about it. Some gnome ought to pop out of the tree and scold her for torturing the lawn.
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He must have been handsome when he was alive and was handsome still, although made monstrous by his pallor and her awareness of what he was. His mouth looked soft, his cheekbones as sharp as blades, and his jaw curved, giving him an off-kilter beauty. His black hair a mad forest of dirty curls.
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The more powerful you become, the more others will find ways to master you. They'll do it through those you love and those you hate. They will find the bit and the bridle that fits your mouth and will make you yield.
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You in trouble?” Sam asks. The way he says it, I wonder if he’s thinking about how to get out of here if I am.
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